


Unfortunate Events

by Arkiem



Series: Little Tribulations [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Captain America - All Media Types, Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Age Play, Baby!Tony, Baby-walker, Cribs, Daddy!Steve, De-Aged Tony Stark, De-aged tony, Diapers, Dubious Consent, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Infantilism, Messy Diapers, Non-Sexual Age Play, Nursery, Plotless, Temper Tantrums, daddy!Bucky, dubious age play consent, kind of:, non-sexual infantilism, platonic cuddles
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-20
Updated: 2017-07-17
Packaged: 2018-09-25 21:06:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 54,882
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9844226
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arkiem/pseuds/Arkiem
Summary: It was a pain every time Loki showed up, but all the things he had done so far seemed to be nothing when, during a battle, Tony ended up being de-aged. And if his luck wasn’t that bad already, it was his body the only thing that shrunk, because Tony was sure his mind was still pretty much the same.Having Steve and Bucky looking after him didn’t make things better or less mortifying either, though Tony couldn’t really say it made it worse.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've always liked de-aged stories where the character keeps his adult mind, though I had never written one. I was daydreaming the other day and this ocurred to me, and I just had to write it down. 
> 
> There's not really a plot here. I seriously don't know if I'll ever write something of this "verse" again (I have some other stories I really need to finish first XD). So, basically, Loki was messing around with the Avengers, and Tony, by pure chance, ended up being de-aged.

Tony didn’t know what had woken him up, but he sure knew what kept him awake: the uncomfortable feeling that a messy diaper caused. That was happening more often than he liked, and he knew he should count as a victory the fact that he could blame the loss of control of his bowels on his unconscious state due to being asleep – thankfully it had never happened while he was being carried in someone’s arms, that would be much more embarrassing – but the more it happened, the less that excuse relieved his mind. 

Perhaps if Tony rolled over to prevent pressing the mess against himself by his own weight, the annoying itchy sensation would go away and he would be able to go back to sleep. A diaper change would be ideal in this case, but Tony was not in the mood of doing what he knew he had to do in order to get one. After several tries and minutes, Tony managed to roll onto his stomach, still not used to how clumsy his movements and how weak his limbs were now. He hated it. Why hadn’t he been turned into a dog or something? He would have certainly felt less useless than now. 

To his misfortune, rolling over didn’t help at all, on the contrary, the front of the diaper was unpleasantly wet and cold, and that only increased the itchiness. Whirling a bit more, Tony tried to find a posture where his skin wasn’t that close to the diaper, and he couldn’t help whining pitifully when he found out the onesie Steve insisted on making him wear kept the diaper right in place. 

There was no way Tony could get back to sleep, he was just too uncomfortable for doing so. Trying to keep his frustration and anger under control, Tony stood up very slowly, both hands clutching the bars of the crib afraid his legs might lose strength, as they tended to do lately, and made him fall down right on his butt – if he was lucky, because he had already fallen on his face a couple of times and it had hurt horribly. Tony wasn’t going to deny the mattress was so comfortably soft for sleeping, but that softness was making it very difficult to stay standing up on it. 

“Dada!” Tony yelled as he peeked out from the side of the crib, too short to be able to stick his head out above it. 

He dreaded that word, but it was easy for him to say it and he wasn’t in the mood of attempting to pronounce something he knew he wouldn’t be able to, as the muscles in his mouth refused to cooperate. If he pronounced the name of Steve, it would surely come out like _‘tif_ or something like that. If Tony had to see anyone with that stupid expression of tenderness on their faces one more time whenever he tried to talk and all he managed to do was babbling, he was going bite someone in the neck the next time he was picked up.

“Dada!” he said again after some seconds when he saw nobody opening the door of the nursery. “Dada! Papa!” he insisted, louder, but still no answer. “DADAAA!”

In spite of himself, Tony felt how some tears started to well up in his eyes as he continued calling. This was exactly why he wanted to go back to sleep, Steve and Bucky might not need to sleep as much as everyone else did, but they surely were heavy sleepers, and it wasn’t easy to wake them up. His shouts began to be interrupted by involuntary sobs, and soon Tony found himself wailing at the top of his lungs too frustrated by the whole situation to be able to stop. 

“Tony, what’s wrong doll?” Tony heard Bucky say while he walked through the door. Tony raised his hands demanding to be picked up, but as soon as he let go of the bars, his legs failed to support his weight and he fell down on his butt. Exactly what he didn’t want to happen. Thankfully, Bucky hurried to the crib and scooped him up right away, “Shh, it’s OK, everything is OK,” Bucky soothed him while he rubbed small circles on his back, calming him down a bit. 

“I think he needs a change,” Steve suggested as he entered the room, switching the light on with the hand he wasn’t using cover his mouth trying to hide his yawn. Tony hated when Steve announced that as if it were nothing, though right now he couldn’t be gladder he had done that, Bucky tended to try to calm him down before looking for the reason that had made him cry in the first place, and Tony wanted his diaper to be changed _now_. 

To Tony’s dismay, Bucky held him out and up, turning him around to sniff at his bottom, “You’re right,” Bucky agreed. Tony felt his face burn in shame, why did Bucky have to do that every time? “Shhh doll, take it easy,” Bucky asked, moving him a bit away from him to dodge the kick Tony had thrown at him, mad because of what Bucky had just done. “You’ll feel better soon,” he promised as he walked towards the changing table and set Tony down on the top it, working on unsnapping his onesie right away. 

“It’s OK Tony, Bucky will get you all cleaned up in no time,” Steve comforted him, leaning over and pressing a quick kiss on his forehead. Tony had started to sob again right after Bucky had undid the straps of the diaper, not liking the smell that hit him. That was why he didn’t want to eat. If he didn’t eat, he wouldn’t have the need to go to the bathroom, and he would put off a lot of diaper changes. But if Steve had been all over him because of his – according to him – terrible eating habits, now it had gotten worse, since Steve wouldn’t set him free from the high chair until all food was gone. 

Steve caresses didn’t do anything to calm Tony down, and when Bucky started to clean him up with the baby wipes, Tony found himself crying freely again, squirming to get away from Bucky’s hands. He had never liked – well, at least since all this started – how the cold wipes felt again his warm skin, but now, besides that unpleasant feeling, it hurt. 

“Tony, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” Steve asked, noticing his discomfort. “Don’t wipe him so strong,” Steve scolded Bucky.

“I’m not,” Bucky assured, “I’m afraid he’s got a rash,” he said, stopping the cleaning and taking a closer look to Tony’s privates. Tony got yet more mortified. He didn’t even want to wear diapers, he had been made to, and now he had gotten a diaper rash for wearing them? He was so going to kill Loki when all this was over, Thor be damned. None of this would have happened if Thor already accepted Loki was a lost cause and Thor was never going to make him change no matter how hard he tried. 

“Oh sweetie,” Steve pitied him, gently pushing Bucky out of the way. “I think I saw a tube of diaper rash cream in that drawer, hand it over, please,” Steve asked as he pointed at the drawer with his eyes, grabbing a clean wipe for the package, “I’m sorry Tony, but I have to clean you well or the rash will get worse,” he apologized when he restarted wiping and Tony began to squirm once more. Tony knew Steve didn’t mean to, but he was hurting him. 

It took Steve several minutes more to finish, his movements being slower than usual trying not to distress Tony more than necessary. By the time Bucky went back to where they were, Tony was crying harder and no soothing words from Steve were going to change that. He hated it, he hated how easy it was to cry now. 

“Oh doll, Steve’s almost over,” Bucky said, running his hand through Tony hair gently. Steve began to apply some of the cream and the touch felt extremely unpleasant. “Shhh, baby boy.”

“No!” Tony managed to say between sobs when he saw Steve unfolding a new diaper. A word that Tony always said whenever someone was about to diaper him again, in case that, just for once, they listened to him. 

“I’m so sorry, Tony. But if you’re not wearing a diaper you’re going to have an accident and you’ll get crankier,” Steve ignored his request, grabbing both his ankles and lifting him so he could slide the diaper under his bottom. 

Using a diaper was dreadful, but Tony couldn’t deny that peeing himself in front of everybody was just worst. Though this time Tony didn’t want to be diapered not due to the action itself, but because he knew the friction of it against his sensible skin was going to make the rash more painful. And it certainly did. When Steve snapped the onesie shut over the diaper, Tony moved, wanting to verify and verifying it did hurt. 

“Ouch!” Tony expressed, a small and chubby hand trying to pull the front of his diaper as an attempt to get it away from his skin, tears not ceasing to shed. 

“I think the diaper is hurting him,” Bucky commented. There was no doubt why Bucky and Steve where the ones who ended up with the task of looking after him until he went back to normal, they seemed to understand him better than anybody else even with his very limited speech. 

"Don't do that sweetheart," Steve ordered him, taking Tony's hand in his, "but we can't leave him without a diaper," he argued, smiling sadly. He tended to do that whenever Tony looked distressed. "He's going to have an accident." 

"Then we'll clean it up, he's not going to go back to bed if he's in pain," Bucky stated. If Tony struggled a lot to fall asleep when being perfectly fine, it was going to be very difficult to get him to sleep while not feeling alright. "Besides, he just used it, and he's not going to drink or eat anything. So, I think he's going to be OK at least for a couple of hours," he added.

"I guess you're right," Steve concealed, "OK. I'm going to take the diaper off, baby, but you gotta promise you’re going to let us know if you feel like peeing, OK?" Steve asked him, already unsnapping the onesie. Tony managed to nod, though he knew it was futile. He couldn't tell anymore when he was about to lose control of his bladder or bowels, usually realizing it until it was happening or it had already happened. Hence the insistence from Steve to keep him in diapers. 

"You're sleeping with us tonight, doll," Bucky announced as he scooped him up and settled him comfortably on his hip. The diaper was gone but Steve had kept the onesie on, unsnapped. Being carried around naked wasn't something Tony wanted, but the onesie hid his nakedness just fine for now. "Let's hurry up so Steve doesn't take all the bed for himself," Bucky commented walking out of the nursery, Steve left behind cleaning up the mess on the changing table. 

Sleeping on the same bed as Steve and Bucky wasn’t something Tony enjoyed either, it would only make things more awkward once he was back to normal (maybe that had been why Tony hadn’t gotten that angry when Pepper had furnished and decorated one of Steve’s spare rooms as a nursery the very next day this had happened, Tony did appreciate having as much privacy as possible). He might be in his baby body for the time being, but his adult mind had remained intact and everybody knew that perfectly well. 

But it had been a stressful night, and even if Tony was never going to admit it, he could totally use some of the cuddles both Steve and Bucky seemed to be good at providing. Bucky would certainly lay down on the bed and place him on his abdomen, and Steve would stroke his hair while he hummed as an attempt to get him to sleep. It always worked. 

And maybe, just maybe, Tony’s luck would chance for once and he would not pee on Bucky during the night.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What happens when you have a lot of work, but you just don't feel like doing it? You procrastinate it and write a story instead. Tomorrow I'm going to have to catch up or my boss is gonna be mad XD. 
> 
> Anyway, I really wasn't planing on continuing this, but my brain had something else in mind, and I just couldn't stop myself from picturing more scenarios with Baby!Tony ♥. 
> 
> So, basically this is going to be like this: I'm not really going to try to develop a plot in here, this is not really going to have a sequence or anything, if I get an idea, I'll write it down, but that's pretty much it. I might explain how Tony, Steve and Bucky ended up in this sitution in a chapter, but if I don't, well, let's just say both of them ended up looking after him because: 1 they were the only ones who seemed to understand him, and 2, they were the only ones who seemed to have the energy to do so, as Baby!Tony seemed to be quite a disaster (in a cute way, of course).
> 
> I'm picturing Tony to be a little bit older than a year (I have thought about making him older, but I guess a year is OK taking into account the tribulations I'm imagining him having).

"No, Tony," Steve said for the umpteenth time, holding an arm in front of Tony to prevent him from moving closer to the edge of the couch where they both where sitting on. "You're going to fall," he warned. 

"No!" Tony alleged angrily, at least as angry as his cute tiny voice could sound. His little hands pushed his arm hard , surely wanting to move it out of his way, but failing to do so, "no!" Tony repeated, with the biggest and cutest pouty face Steve had ever seen. Steve had to refrain himself from leaning over and pressing a kiss on his pink cheek. He had learned Tony wasn't fond of those gestures, especially when he was as cranky as he was now. 

"I'm not moving my arm, so you can quit that already," Steve informed him, with the hope that Tony would stop. 

But if adult Tony was stubborn, baby Tony was much worse in that aspect. Raising his legs a little, Tony pressed his feet on his forearm and pushed as hard as he could. Steve rolled his eyes and he couldn't help to chuckle when Tony lost his balance and fell backwards on the sofa, his face red with anger. 

"You see, stop it already, you're gonna hurt yourself," Steve asked, sliding a hand under Tony's back and pushing him gently to help him sit up. 

And if Steve had thought Tony would stop after that, he was more than mistaken. Tony kept pushing his arm with his little legs, though this time he made sure his back was leaned against the back of the couch so he wouldn’t fall again. Well, Steve had to admit he felt kind of proud of the fact Tony hadn’t given up so easily, he even had to grasp the arm of the sofa because Tony was managing to move his arm. 

“Tony, baby, I know you want to walk, but your legs are not strong enough yet,” Steve reasoned, worried to see Tony’s face getting redder and redder, due to the effort or the anger, or maybe both, he couldn’t really tell. “You’re going to fall and hurt yourself.” 

“Moob!” Tony demanded, and Steve was sure he had wanted to say ‘move’. Clint was still amazed how Bucky and he seemed to understand what Tony wanted to say with no effort. 

“No, I already told you I won’t,” Steve said with the most serious voice he could achieved. It was really hard to speak to Tony that way now that he looked so small and vulnerable, and the only thing Steve felt like doing was cuddling and pampering him. 

“’dam!” Tony expressed, starting to kick him in the arm instead of just pushing it. 

“Hey, young man!” Steve called, startling Tony as he had raised his voice, “I know that was a swear word and you should know better than to say them. If I’m not letting you climb down the sofa is because I don’t want you to hurt yourself. The only way I’m letting you set foot on the floor is if you let me hold your hands while you walk, but you don’t want me to do that, so, I’m sorry, but you’re staying right where you are,” he scolded, though he wished he hadn’t almost immediately, because even if Tony evidently attempted to keep a challenging expression, tears began to well up in his eyes. Shit. He hated seeing Tony cry, it was heartbreaking. 

“Fo ya!” Tony cursed, his lower lip trembling in a way that told Steve he was trying hard not to cry, but he was losing the battle. Tony might have kept his adult mindset, but he sure couldn’t help reacting a little bit childish sometimes. 

Sighing heavily, Steve refrained himself from scolding Tony a second time for what he just yelled at him, not wanting to upset him further. He removed his arm from his way and placed his hands on Tony’s sides to lift him and put him down on the floor right in front of the couch, making sure Tony held it to keep his balance.

“If you fall down, I’m not picking you up,” Steve warned, wanting Tony to think twice before making an attempt to run towards the elevator as he tended to do. Tony glared at him and stuck out his tongue before turning his back on him. Steve sighed again, that was what he got for letting Tony getting away with his previous lack of respect. 

Steve saw how Tony moved his hands away from the sofa very slowly, certainly trying not to make any brusque move that would send him to the floor. Once he was sure he could keep the balance, he risked to take a step and he stayed still until he was sure he wasn’t going to fall down. After ten minutes, Tony had managed to waddled to the middle of the living room, and Steve couldn’t help clapping at him with a big goofy smile in his face. 

“There you go, buttercup!” Steve applauded encouragingly, making Tony turn around to see him, but he did it so fast that he ended up falling down on his butt. 

Steve attempted to stand up to go to help him, but Tony glared at him in a way Steve knew his help wasn’t going to be appreciated, so he stayed in the couch. With clumsy and sluggish movements, Tony managed to stand up and the satisfaction of having been able to do it by himself could be clearly seen in his face. 

Perhaps it hadn’t been such a bad idea to let Tony walk by himself – after all, he did need to practice in order to acquire more strength in his legs – and Tony was doing a wonderful job. And Steve was sure he would have kept it up, if the elevator hadn’t decided to ring in that precise moment to announce someone was making use of it, reminding Tony of its existence. 

“Tony, no!” Steve ordered, but it had been too late. Tony had tried to run towards it, with the hope of stepping inside if it opened, but his legs hadn’t respond as quickly as he meant them to and had gotten tangled instead, making him fall flat on his face. 

Steve hurried over right away, stopping dead when he saw Tony sitting up. If Tony didn’t want help this time either, Steve was more than willing to give him his space. But then Tony’s face crumbled in pain soon after and Steve reached him right when Tony started to wail. 

“Shhh, it’s OK baby, it’s OK, you’re OK,” Steve soothed while he sat down crossed-leg on the floor and picked Tony up, cradling him on his lap. “It’s OK, nothing happened,” he continued, rocking him at the same he scanned his head for any serious injury. None, thankfully. “Where does it hurt?” he asked, because even if there were no cuts or anything of the kind, Tony must have taken a big hit. “C’mon sweetheart, tell me where it hurts so I can take a look,” Steve insisted when Tony seemed more interested in bursting his eardrums than listening to him. 

With trembling hands, and without stopping crying, Tony indicated the left side of his forehead after some seconds. Steve took Tony’s small hand in his to move it out of the way and leaned over so he could have a closer look to his forehead. It didn’t look any different, maybe just a bit reddened on the area that had taken most of the impact. He pressed his index finger carefully against Tony’s forehead, making him flinch slightly, but besides the obvious discomfort, there was nothing that indicated Steve he should worry. Baby’s bones were soft and Tony hadn’t really fall from a high distance. 

“This is exactly why I didn’t want to let you walk by yourself,” Steve couldn’t refrain himself from scolding him. He knew this whole situation must be very frustrating to Tony, but he also knew Tony was perfectly capable of understanding him, and Steve wanted him to get it through his head that there were going to be a lot of things he wasn’t going to be able to do until he went back to normal. “You shouldn’t try to run like that, your legs can’t take that yet,” he continued, tightening his embrace. Tony squirmed a little, but showed no signs of wanting to move away. 

“There was a baby-walker among all the things Ms. Potts bought to furnish the nursery,” JARVIS commented Steve while he kept cooing Tony. A baby-walker? Actually, it sounded like a good idea. Tony refused to be helped and he couldn’t really be left alone yet, so the walker would provide the support he needed for now. “It must be in the closet,” JARVIS informed him before he could ask. 

Giving Tony some more time to calm down, Steve stood up and walked to the nursery, carrying Tony in his arms. After a quick stop at the changing table, Steve put Tony in the crib and made his way to the closet, hoping Tony wouldn’t try to climb out of the crib as he usually did whenever he was left there when being awake, totally ignoring anyone’s request of staying put. 

The closet was full of unopened boxes of all sizes whose contents Steve completely ignored. Pepper had undoubtedly spared no expense; but besides the crib, the changing table, the high chair, the diapers, the clothes and a few toys, Steve and Bucky hadn’t really had the chance to look through everything she had bought. Looking after Tony turned out to be quite exhausting, and they couldn’t afford to take his eyes away from him not even for a minute, or Tony would try to do something that would definitely make him end in tears. 

Fortunately, the box which contained the baby-walker was placed in the front, so it took Steve just a couple of seconds to spot it. Taking a look at the manual and following JARVIS’s instructions, Steve managed to assemble it in no time. It looked adorable. It was red race-car shaped walker, featuring a steering wheel, key, gear shifter that makes sounds when moved, and lights that turn on; or so the manual said, because the batteries weren’t included and Steve couldn’t go to get some as Tony was already whining loudly, not wanting to be in the crib. 

“Come here, grumpy pants,” Steve said as his hands came down into the crib and slid under Tony’s armpits, pulling him out, “look what I found,” he informed, excitement in his voice. Tony loved the color red and he also loved cars, so Steve was sure he was going to like the walker.

Though the expression in Tony’s face when Steve put him in it told him ‘like’ wasn’t the most accurate word he could use to describe how Tony felt about the walker.

\- - - -

“Papa!” Tony said, hurrying over Bucky who had just stepped out of the elevator.

“Wow! Look at that! That’s the most awesome race car I’ve ever seen!” Bucky exclaimed, not even flinching when Tony hit him in shin with the walker when he got closer. 

“Papa!” Tony repeated, raising his hands at him, wanting to be picked up. Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion, Tony never wanted to be picked up, unless he was in his crib or playpen. 

“Op!” Tony insisted, hands trying eagerly, and futilely, to reach him. A sob escaped from his throat, making Bucky realized his teary face. 

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Steve said from the couch. Bucky took his eyes off Tony and looked Steve. He looked tired. 

“uky!” Tony called, making Bucky looked down at him again. That’s when he noticed the barely visible bump on his forehead. 

“Doll, what happened to you?” Bucky asked, voice worried, scooping him up.

“He tried to run, _again_ , and he fell down,” Steve explained, sounding a bit annoyed. Bucky couldn’t blame him, Tony might understand them, but that didn’t mean he listened to them. All requests of taking things easy fell on deaf ears, and well, things like this happened. 

“Tony, how many times have we told you not to run?” Bucky scolded, walking towards Steve and sitting down on the armchair next to the sofa. He caressed the bump on Tony’s head very carefully, but he made him flinch anyway. “Did you get Bruce to check on him?” Bucky asked, looking worried. 

“Well, I don’t think it’s that serious,” Steve explained, “I haven’t let him fall asleep just in case, and I’ll ask Bruce to come and take a look when he comes back.”

“Hey, what’s wrong doll?” Bucky questioned when he sensed Tony squirming hard on his lap.

“Del!” Tony said, pointing at the floor with his little index finger.

“What? You wanna walk?” Bucky guessed, trying to keep Tony in place as he started to wriggle harder. “Wait, let me get the walker so –“

“No!” Tony yelled, his short legs trying to kick him. 

“That’s why I told you not to pick him up,” Steve said, sounding annoyed once more, “he’s being doing that all afternoon. He doesn’t stay put, he insists on walking, but he doesn’t want me to help him and he didn’t like the walker. If he were more careful, but not even that. I told you JARVIS has been ordered not to let you out of the room by yourself, so I don’t know why you insist on running towards the elevator,” he said the last sentence to Tony, but the latter ignored him, as he was more focused on trying to get himself free from Bucky’s grip. 

“Sounds like someone has been giving Dada a hard time, doesn’t it?” Bucky chuckled, lifting Tony a little to prevent him from continuing slipping down his lap. “You’re really something else, nobody can tire Steve like you do,” Bucky assured, holding Tony at eye-level and managing to press a kiss on his cheek before Tony threw a kick to his face. “What if we go downstairs to see if Bruce’s here, so he can take a look at your head and green-light us to take a nap? It seems you’re tired too,” he observed, standing up with a squirmy and whiny Tony in his arms. 

Tony didn’t like taking naps, but now that he was in his baby body, it was evident he did need them, as they did wonders for his mood. And if Steve or he lay down next to him and pretend to fall asleep too, he would eventually get to sleep too without much of a fuss.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I didn't procrastinate anything to write this, so, I guess that's good. I just was kind of in a terrible mood yesterday (thanks to my beautiful coordinator and principal - yeah, read that with a sarcastic tone - and no, it didn't have anything to do with me procrastinating anything to write the second chapter in this installment, that was in my other job and I'm already up-to-date with my work there :p) and writing does help me to calm down.
> 
> So, this is the result of me trying to cool off. 
> 
> Thanks for all your kudos and comments, they do wonders for my mood :)

“C’mon Tony, open up,” Bucky pleaded, moving the small plastic spoon closer to Tony’s mouth, but the latter kept turning his head away, refusing to eat. “Tony, doll, you have to eat, c’mon, it’s apple, you like apples, don’t you?” he insisted, pressing gently the spoon against Tony’s closed mouth. 

“No!” Tony said after he had pushed the spoon with his hand, sending the apple mush to the floor. Bucky took a deep long breath, it was the fifth time that that happened. “’isa!” Tony demanded, slamming his hands on the tray.

“You know I can’t give you pizza, it’s hard for you to chew something like that right now,” Bucky explained, getting some more mush in the spoon. 

“No!” Tony denied. 

“Yes, it is. Besides, remember you got a stomachache when you convinced me to feed you some hamburgers, your stomach can’t take junk food right now either,” Bucky recalled, holding up the spoon in front of Tony once more, grabbing his hands before moving it closer to his mouth. Tony closed it immediately, and got as far as the back of the high chair allowed him. “C’mon Tony, we’ve been here for more than an hour, just open your mouth and let’s get this over with, “he kept pleading, “it’s not like I’m feeding you something you don’t like, you’ve eaten this before,” he tried to reason, but Tony shook his head obstinately, eyes starting to water. 

Bucky sighed one more time, putting the spoon away. He knew for a fact Tony hated crying, but he sure had no problem with shedding some tears every now and then if that got him out of doing something he didn’t want to do. Steve and he tried to look after him the best way they could, putting their feet down when necessary, but the chances of both of them breaking at the first sign of tears were high, and it hadn’t taken Tony long to figure that out.

“Aren’t you done?” Steve asked as he entered the kitchen, looking at the hour the microwave showed. They kept a routine with Tony’s meals, and they were way pass his lunch hour. 

“Clint brought pizza,” Bucky informed, annoyed. 

“Oh…” Steve exclaimed, not needing any further information to understand what was going on. 

According to Steve, having all the Avengers under one roof hadn’t been something easy, and, at the beginning, they had had some problems trying to adjust. Food had been one of those problems, since everybody seemed to prefer eating and keeping the food in the fridge in the communal kitchen despite having a fully functional kitchen in their own floors. 

The problem with that had been that everybody – and Bucky just knew Clint was the one who did it the most – thought it was OK just to open the refrigerator and take whatever they wanted, regardless of who it belonged to, causing several arguments. So, they had come to an agreement and whenever they bought something for themselves, they’d buy enough for everybody – which wasn’t a big deal, since Tony insisted on paying for everything. 

So, that had been what had happened. Clint had bought pizza for everybody, and even if Bucky and Tony were in Steve’s kitchen, Clint had gotten JARVIS to notify everybody over the intercom about it, just in the moment when he was about to feed the first spoon to Tony. 

“Sweetheart, you know you can’t eat those things,” Steve said to Tony as he stroked his hair fondly, sitting on the chair next to Bucky. “I promise I'll cook myself all you want to eat when you go back to normal, but right now you have to eat what Bucky or I offer you, or your tummy will hurt like the last time,” he pointed out, taking the bowl of apple mush from Bucky’s hands and placing it on the tray in front of Tony. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Bucky advised, referring to the location of the bowl. Tony had already covered a few tiles with mush in his attempt to avoid eating. 

“No, I know Tony understands us, and he will eat because he knows we’re–” Tony pushed and swept the bowl off the tray onto the floor before Steve could even finish the sentence. 

“I told you,” Bucky rebuked. Steve might be able to pull some situations off by trying to reason with Tony’s adult side, but it never worked when Tony was being this bratty. 

“’ISA!” Tony demanded at the top of his lungs, throwing the spoon he had been careful to keep at Steve, splattering his face with mush. Bucky couldn’t help to chuckle, earning a glare from Steve. 

“OK, you don’t want to eat, don’t eat,” Steve said as he stood up and removed the tray, unstrapping Tony and scooping him up, “but I’m not putting up with this behavior of yours,” he warned, walking outside the kitchen and into the living room, “I didn’t do anything to you, so you have no right of being this disrespectful to me,” he scolded, getting closer to the playpen placed on the corner, near the window, and putting him down in it. 

Tony hated the playpen as much as the crib.

\- - - -

“Doesn’t he have an on/off switch or something?” Bucky asked, sounding serious even if the question couldn’t be genuine. “Would you just let him eat a small slice of pizza?” he suggested to Steve, already on the edge.

Tony had one hell of a pair of lungs, and he sure had proved that over the last hour. He had gone from yelling at them what definitely were curse words, to try to climb out the playpen, to kick and punch the mesh when he had realized he couldn’t get out of there without help, to angrily hurl the toys out of the playpen, to, finally, sit down and wail out his irritation. 

"No, last time you agreed when he wanted to eat burgers and we ended up with a sick baby," Steve half recalled, half scolded, his eyes focused on the screen in from of them. Bucky might have as well criticize the fact that Steve was watching TV like if there wasn’t a crying baby a few meters away from them, but Bucky knew Steve was using the TV as a distraction so he didn't end up succumbing to the temptation of just letting Tony get his way. 

"How was I supposed to know his stomach wouldn't be able to take the hamburger?" Bucky argued, turning his head around for the umpteenth time to check on Tony. The tantrum wasn’t over, but Tony had passed from wailing to just sobbing. It was quite an improvement, considering the circumstances. 

"Well, for instance, the fact that you never see babies eating what adults do, and that there are a lot of companies that make and purvey baby food," Steve hinted. Bucky sighed.

"OK, my bad," Bucky accepted, not wanting Steve to continue. It had been enough of a reprimand how awful he had felt when Tony woken them up after having thrown up. "Man, I can't take it anymore," he announced, standing up and walking towards the playpen. "Are you ready to talk?" he asked a sobbing Tony, folding his arms over his chest. He didn't have time to do nothing but close his eyes when Tony threw a small stuffed animal at him in the face. Really? Had he refrained to throw that toy before just to be able to do that? 

"Don't upset him more," Steve asked, looking at him out of the corner of his eyes. 

"He can't get angrier than this," Bucky argued, even if he knew that wasn’t true. Tony had shown he could always get more upset. Like thirty minutes ago, when Bucky thought his tantrum was close to finishing, he had approached him and tried to reason with him. That had been what motivated Tony to throw all the toys out. 

"Foya!" Tony cursed, glaring at him, though his teary eyes and trembling lips make it look more like a pout. 

"You know, I'm not as much of a prude as Steve is,"

"Hey! I've heard that!" Steve complained, interrupting him. 

"But I'm really not liking your swearing," Bucky continued, ignoring Steve. Steve didn’t like anyone, _anyone_ , to swear, whether they were kids or adults. Bucky couldn’t care less about that, but there was something very wrong with listening to a baby babbling swear words. 

Quickly, so he didn't give Tony time to run away, Bucky leaned forward and scooped him up, holding him out to prevent him from squirming. He preferred dealing with kicks and punches than with a squirmy baby, as he got the feeling that Tony would somehow managed to slip through his embrace due to how hard he whirled.

“Hey, grumpy pants,” Steve greeted Tony when Bucky sat him down next to him on the couch. Tony gave him the finger. 

Steve took a few deep breaths, trying not to get mad. Then, he turned until he was sitting sideways, lifting a leg and placing it on Bucky’s lap, enclosing Tony that way, who never thought twice about attempting to run away if there was the smallest chance. 

“Look, I know this is not easy for you, I know it must frustrate you a lot the fact that we’re not letting you do a lot of things,” Steve said, voice calmed, “but you must understand, and I know you can, that we’re not doing that because we want to be mean or make you feel miserable,” he assured, reaching for Tony’s leg, rubbing a thumb against it.

“Yes, doll, you can’t really look after yourself right now, so we’re doing it for you, and we really don’t want anything bad to happen to you while you’re under our watch,” Bucky added, brushing a wisp of hair off Tony’s sweaty forehead. 

“Do you really think we’re handling this in the wrong way?” Steve asked Tony, leaning a bit so his eyes were at Tony’s eyes-level, “huh?” he insisted when Tony did nothing but play nervously with his hands, “be honest and tell us, so we figure something out,” he proposed.

Tony squirmed a little and looked away, clearly uncomfortable under Steve’s gaze. He fixed his eyes on his small feet as if they were the most amazing thing in the word, sobs caught in his throat, escaping in tiny strangled cries. After a few minutes, Tony shook his head so imperceptibly that Steve and Bucky would have missed it if they hadn’t been paying close attention. 

“That’s good to know,” Steve expressed, caressing Tony’s wet cheek, “if you don’t like something, let us know and we can come to an agreement, but if we already told you not to do something, you have to learn not to throw these tantrums,” Steve scolded in a friendly way, but Bucky could see how Tony’s cheeks acquired a faded shade of pink, realization hitting him. Tony Stark had just thrown a tantrum, _again_. “Would you let me hug you?” Steve asked, not really waiting for an answer. Tony didn’t exactly hug him back, but at least he didn’t try to squirm free, and that was a huge positive development taking into account it was Tony.

“Should I smash more apples?” Bucky suggested, stroking Tony’s hair. 

“No,” Tony said with a tiny voice.

“Yes, your tummy’s growling, you’re hungry,” Steve informed, patting Tony’s butt a couple of times, “You go and get more food while I go and change his diaper,” Steve said, standing up.

Tony whined, he wasn’t a fan of diaper changes.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I really didn't take time to read it looking for mistakes, so I apologize in advance if there are too many.
> 
> Stress relief again...

“Steve, your son is hungry!” Clint said loudly when Tony tried to reach for the donut he was eating. Tony glared at him, he didn’t like it when Clint referred to him as Steve’s or Bucky’s son. 

“ime!” Tony demanded, stepping on his tip-toes to see if he could grab Clint’s hand, but he was just too short now to be able to do that. And the fact that Clint pushed the walker away with his foot didn’t help at all. 

“Steve! Your son!” Clint yelled again. Tony kicked him in the leg. “Hey! You, Mr. Poopy Pants, are stronger than you look,” Clint complained, and winced again when Tony threw another kick. If he didn’t like so much the endearments Steve and Bucky tended to use, he definitely disliked Clint’s. 

“I asked you to keep an eye on him while I’m making him something to eat!” Steve answered from the kitchen. Keep an eye on him? Tony didn’t need to be under supervision 24/7! Besides, where would he go? The freaking walker might let him walk without anyone having to hold his hand, but it certainly restricted the places he could step in. He hated it!

“Onu!” Tony demanded once more, taking advantage of the fact that Clint had moved his leg of the way to move closer to him again, stretching his arm out as much as he could, reaching for the donut. Yes, Steve and Bucky didn’t want him to eat anything that wasn’t stupid baby food, and yes, they might be right when they said it was because everything else upset his stomach, but a little piece wouldn’t cause much harm, would it?

“Sorry Tony, but your daddy forbade us to feed you anything,” Clint apologized, leaning forward to stroke his hair. Tony shook his head and pushed Clint’s hand away. Why did everyone have to touch him all the time? “Besides, you heard him, he’s fixing you something, and I’m pretty sure it’s gonna be something more delicious than this yucky donut,” he assured, but Tony doubted it. To be honest, Steve’s food wasn’t exactly disgusting, but it was far from being as delicious as junk food. When everything went back to normal, he was going to eat cheeseburgers for a whole month!

“Onu!” Tony insisted. Since when did Clint listen to anything Steve said? 

“Sorry, no can do,” Clint refused again. “Why don’t you play with your walker here while your daddy comes back?” he suggested, reaching for the small wheel placed in front of him, “Look! What awesome sounds it makes!” he said as he pushed the toy honk, but it didn’t emit any sound. He tried again, but still nothing. Tony looked at him with a deadpan expression. “Did you break it already?” Clint asked, pressing all the other buttons, getting the same result. “Oh, I know!” he said as he removed the toy tray and turned it over, looking for the battery compartment. He pressed down into the finger indent on the cover and slide it down. Empty. “Oh, your silly daddy forgot to insert the batteries,” he announced.

Clint stood up, murmuring something about getting some batteries and left the room. Where to? Tony couldn't care less, because the only thing he could focused on was the plate with the donut on it that Clint had placed in the middle of the coffee table before he left. 

Aha! Today was his lucky day indeed. He turned around and hurried to the coffee table, determined to get the donut before Clint arrived, his diet be damned. If he threw up again, he wouldn't really care, it would be totally worth it. 

A small pop sound could be heard when the walker hit the edge of the table, stopping Tony from continuing moving forward. He stretched out his hand as much as he could, reaching for the plate, and he literally felt like crying in frustration when he realized he has a couple of inches away from being able to grab it. If he hadn’t been in the freaking walker, he would have been able to reached it. Dammit!

"Now it works!" Clint announced when he came back to the living room, walking towards the sofa and pulling Tony with him, who was still trying to get the plate with the donut. "Look! It has great sounds!" Clint said placing the toy tray back in front of Tony and turning the toy key, producing the sound of an engine starting. 

"Onu!" Tony asked with a shaky voice. 

"Forget the donut, look, this is really great, try it yourself," Clint encouraged, grabbing his small hand and leading it to honk the toy horn. 

"Onu," Tony repeated, voice even more broken. He didn't want to cry, he really didn't. He didn't want to get the thing he wanted by crying, it was so lame, only babies did that and, contrary to what everybody said, he was not a baby. But he couldn't help it, he had been so close, he just wanted a bite, and he wasn't allowed, and it was just not fair. 

"Hey, no no no, don't cry, don't cry, look, these lights flicker," Clint panicked, still trying to distract him, unsuccessfully. "Steve! Your son wants to cry!" Clint cried for help. Steve didn't answer. 

"Onu," Tony repeated, tears welling up in his eyes. 

"No, Tony, don't cry, I hate it when you cry," Clint pleaded, but it was too late, tears were already falling freely on Tony's cheeks and he had started to sob. "OK, OK, let's make a deal, I'll give you a little piece of my donut if you promise not tell Steve," he proposed, already reaching for the plate. This was the Clint Tony knew. 

Tony cleaned his tears with the back of his hand and was about to nod, when he felt somebody picking him up from behind. "Am I hearing what I think I'm hearing? Are you asking Tony to lie to me?" Steve asked, sitting down next to Clint, a look of disapproval in his face. 

"He was about to cry!" Clint explained. 

"So? That doesn't excuse the fact that you encouraged him to lie and that you were going to give him something to eat that I specifically told you not to," Steve scolded, settling Tony on his lap. 

"I don't like seeing him crying!" Clint excused himself. 

“Neither do I, but you don’t see me giving him things I know will make him sick,” Steve pointed out, leaning a bit to the side to reach for something that was on the coffee table. 

For a millisecond Tony thought Steve had grabbed the donut. Perhaps Steve was scolding Clint for being willing to let Tony get what he wanted just because of a few tears, but Steve could be pretty indulgent himself too when tears were involved. Though Tony should have known better than to let himself think his luck could do anything but suck, when something seemed to be too good to be true, in Tony’s case, it never was. 

“No!” Tony denied as soon as Steve started to shake the bottle idly, whirling hard to set himself free from his grip. No way! He wasn’t going to drink from a bottle, that was too much! No fucking way!

“No, don’t start with that again, I know for a fact you’re hungry, you had an early dinner yesterday, and you haven’t eaten anything since you woke up,” Steve said.

"No!" Tony denied once more. It seemed that was the only word he said lately. 

"Is it because of the formula? Tony, we talked about this, I know you don't want it, but your body does need its nutrients, especially since you're not getting enough because you're not such a good eater. You might have pulled it off by just drinking coffee and junk food when you were an adult, but I'm afraid that's not going to be possible now," Steve explained, tightening his embrace by pulling Tony closer to him, trying to refrain him from squirming. 

"NO!" 

"Well, I do understand that word," Clint commented, holding the remote up in front of the TV to turn it on. 

"C’mon, I added some flavor so it's tastier," Steve informed, knowing perfectly well Tony had disliked the way plain formula tasted. He had tried to feed him some a couple of days ago, and Tony had literally spit it in his face after the first sip. Steve had tried to coax Tony into trying it once more before deciding he really hadn't like it by trying it himself to show him it wasn't that bad, and Tony couldn't have helped smiling mockingly when Steve had grimaced at the taste of it, unable to pretend he had liked it. 

"No!" Tony maintained, pushing Steve’s arm as hard as he could. Yes, he didn’t want to drink that disgusting formula, but again, no way he was drinking from a bottle!

“I’m not lying, JARVIS helped me to look on the internet how to make it taste better, and I tried it myself, I promised the flavor improved a lot,” Steve assured, pushing Tony gently back so he leaned on the arm he was using to support him, the hand kept against his stomach to prevent him from sitting up. 

“No!” Tony said, using his legs to get purchase against Steve’s tight, becoming arched in a way Steve had no choice but to let him sit up. 

“HEY! Stop doing that! You’re gonna hurt yourself!” Steve ordered, using the same voice he used when he was giving orders in the battlefield, a voice that Tony was so used to hear as he tended to get on Steve’s nerves very often, but somehow sounded scarier now that he was stuck in this body. Tony stopped dead, noticing how his vision became blurrier as his eyes began to get wet. What the hell was wrong with him? Why the hell did he want to cry just because Steve had raised his voice at him?

“Well done daddy, you made him cry,” Clint congratulated sarcastically, and Tony would have gotten mad at Clint for daring to say such a lie, if he hadn’t noticed in that precise moment that he was already sobbing. 

“Jesus, Tony, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you like that,” Steve apologized, holding Tony against his chest, cupping the back of his head and guiding it down on his shoulder, “Shh, it’s OK baby boy, I’m sorry, I’m not mad at you, I promise,” Steve said, making Tony sob a bit harder because he was definitely not crying just because there had been the possibility that Steve had gotten angry at him. Or was he? “We’d talked about this, champ. You promised to give everything we offer you a try before you deciding you don’t like it.”

“No,” Tony denied, hating how tiny and shaky his voice had sound. 

“Yes, you did, sweetheart,” Steve stated, rubbing slow circles onto Tony’s small back. 

“Ga,” Tony said after some minutes, when he had managed to decreased the sobs. 

“What?” Steve asked, not getting what Tony meant. 

“Ga,” he repeated, pointing at the kitchen’s island that was a few feet away from them, specifically at a dirty glass that Clint must have left there instead of putting it in the sink. It took Steve some minutes to realized what he was doing.

“The kitchen?” Steve suggested. 

“No! Ga!” Tony insisted. Steve turned his head around so he could see what Tony was pointing at. 

“Oh! The glass?” Steve guessed right, “Is that why you don’t want to try the formula? You don’t want the bottle?” he questioned, sitting Tony on his lap once more. Tony nodded, sniffing. “Tony, you can’t drink from a glass,” Steve told him, cleaning the trace of tears with his thumb. 

“Can!” Tony lied. On the first days he had spent as a baby, Tony had tried to drink some water from a glass, failing miserably. The muscles in his mouth didn’t quite follow his orders, and he had ended up with more water on his clothes than in his stomach. Steve or Bucky then started to help him by holding it for him, but Tony had to agree that even like that he couldn’t help spilling liquid down his chin. 

“No, you can’t, and you know it. And before you try to tell me about a sippy cup, forget about, you know you couldn’t really adapt to it either,” Steve said, Tony glared at him. “Just give it a try,” he encouraged, reaching for the bottle and holding it up so its nipple was close to Tony’s mouth. Tony shook his head.

“I’ll give you a piece of donut if you give it a try,” Clint proposed, smiling at him as he caressed his leg tenderly. Tony looked at him, eyes wide open. 

“What? He’s not having any donut,” Steve said, looking both surprised and annoyed by Clint's proposal. 

"Do you want him to drink the formula or not?" Clint stated the obvious, because Tony would drink it for sure if he could have a donut, even if it wasn't a complete one. Jeez, he would kill anybody just to eat something solid. He was never going to starve himself again when all this was over!

Steve thought about it for a while, before agreeing, "OK, I'm letting you have a quarter of the donut if you finish all the formula, but if you get sick, I don't want you to make a tantrum because you don't like the syrup," he warned, but Tony had started nodding before Steve had finished. 

Tony still hesitated to open his mouth when Steve pressed the nipple against his lips once more. How would he been able to look at everybody in the eyes with all the things he was being made to do? Everything was going to be so awkward once he went back to be his adult self again. 

Still a bit reluctant, he parted his lips a bit and let Steve push the bottle until the nipple was comfortably supported by his tongue. Tony gave a suck and some of the formula hit his taste buds. Vanilla, Steve had added some vanilla to it, making it more bearable to drink than the last time. Yes, it was still too thick for his taste, but he could deal with that for now. 

After a few trial sucks, where he ended up with some of the liquid running down his chin, Steve moved his arm so he leaned backwards a little. Tony continued drinking the contents of the bottle, allowing Steve to hold it for him. It was actually very easy to drink from it, though he was never going to admit that out loud, or he was never going to be allowed to drink from a glass again. 

At some point he had to focused his eyes on the roof, Steve’s gaze of affection making him uncomfortable. How could Steve look at him like that? He certainly knew he wasn’t a real baby, so there was no need to look at him so lovingly. 

He didn't have time to give that much of a thought, though, because after some minutes his stomach began to hurt. Tony started to squirm a little to find out if by changing the position he could get rid of the annoying pain, but he couldn’t. Noticing his discomfort, Steve put the bottle away and held him against his chest so his chin was resting on his shoulder, gently patting his back. 

At the end, Tony was too mortified for having been burped and too full for all the formula he had drunk that he totally forgot about the donut he had been promised.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jeez, this week I had too much work, work I couldn't procrastinate. 
> 
> Actually, I wrote this in my cell phone while I commuted (there's always traffic congestion where I live, so, I waste a lot of time in the bus).

"Would you mind telling me why he’s crying now?" Steve asked as soon as he entered the living room. He had heard Tony’s wails even when the door of the elevator hadn’t opened yet. 

"Ask him," Bucky answered from the couch, his voice sounding muffled since he was lying face down on it. 

"Hey little man,” Steve greeted, squatting down in front of the playpen so his head was at Tony’s sight level, “what's wrong?" Steve asked, but Tony didn’t seem to want to answer, he just kept bawling as he stepped on his toes and stretched his arms out over the side of the playpen, clear sign that he wanted to be picked up. “Try to calm down and tell me what’s wrong,” Steve ordered, stroking his hair tenderly. 

When Tony raised his small arms to grasp his wrist, Steve had to refrain himself with all his might from scooping him up and sway him back and forth until he calmed down. Crying was something Tony did quite a lot lately, and Steve couldn’t stand seeing his teary face – no one could – without having the strong urge to do something about it. However, Steve had learned that, when the tears were the consequence of a tantrum, it was better to give him some time to get a hold of himself, since any attempt of comfort was not going to be well received. 

“He’s not going to calm down, I’ve been trying to do that for the last thirty minutes,” Bucky informed, still not bothering to look up at him. 

“What happened?” Steve questioned, sitting down next to the playpen. It was obvious he was going to be there for more time than he had thought. Tony just got the hiccups for all the effort the crying required, yet it was obvious he was not ready to stop. 

“Pepper called,” Bucky said.

“So?” Steve smiled sadly, Tony’s hands still reaching for him. 

“She was looking for some contracts she’d brought to Tony because they needed to be signed, before all this happened,” Bucky explained, finally lifting his face. 

“And Tony’s crying because he couldn’t sign them now?” Steve suggested, noticing the irony in the situation. Pepper always had a hard time trying to make Tony sign paperwork, and now that he couldn’t, he wanted to do it? 

“No, surprisingly, Tony had signed them. The thing was they still were in his workshop, so we went there to look for them and have JARVIS scan them and send them to Pepper,” Bucky continued. 

“And he’s crying because you couldn’t find them?” Steve proposed.

“I hope you’re playing dumb,” Bucky commented, squinting at him. Steve raised an eyebrow in confusion. “He wanted to stay there,” Bucky revealed, stating the obvious. “You should’ve seen him, he almost fell out of my arms because of how strongly he squirmed. I had to put him down on the floor because I really didn’t want to drop him, and he latched onto a stool so hard I was afraid I might hurt him if I made him let go of it,” Bucky related, sounding tired. 

“Why didn’t you pick him up with the stool and everything?” Steve asked, moving a bit closer to Tony so he could rub his back, wincing at how hoarse his wails sounded. 

“Oh, I _did_ ,” Bucky said as he pointed at the corner. Steve turned his head and saw said stool there. “Not something easy to do when it was attached to the floor.” Oh, Steve had forgotten that little detail. 

“Tony, baby, you can’t really do anything down there right now, and you know it,” Steve stated, raising his voice a little to make sure Tony hear him despite his cries, “there’s no point of going down there.”

“I think he’s just bored,” Bucky reckoned, sitting up. “I think it was just a matter of being somewhere else besides this floor.”

“Why?”

“Well, except for the day this started, he’s spent all time here. Up until now he’s kept himself occupied with exercising, so to speak, but now that he’s gotten a bit better at controlling his movements, I guess there’s nothing he can distract himself with,” Bucky explained, scratching his chin thoughtfully, “Today I was trying to entertained him with the TV and some toys, but he didn’t want to do anything, and when I was building something with the Legos to show him how fun they could be, he spelled that with the blocks.” Bucky pointed at the stack of toys placed on the floor in front of the TV. 

Steve refrained himself from chuckling when he saw the blocks, not wanting to give Tony the impression it was OK to do that, as among the words ‘boring’ and ‘go’, Tony had arranged some blocks to spell some curse words. 

“You shouldn’t say those words, grumpy pants,” Steve scolded, swatting Tony’s padded bottom playfully a couple of times. Tony flopped down on the mattress, reaching the point where the tantrum was over and the only reason he kept crying was because he had been crying too much and couldn’t stop. “I guess you’re right, he _has_ been locked here since all this happened,” Steve agreed as he stood up and took Tony in his arms, holding him against his chest and rocking him back and forth. He couldn’t help smiling when Tony’s little hands clung to his t-shirt, melting in his embrace. “I’d be bored too,” he confessed. 

“But what can we do? I mean, we haven’t really gone out either, just for exercising and missions. We can’t take him with us during missions,” Bucky affirmed. 

“There’s no need to be on a mission to go out,” Steve pointed out, walking towards the hall that leaded to the bedrooms.

\- - - -

“C’mon Tony, papa’s waiting for you,” Steve encouraged, trying to detach Tony from his t-shirt.

“No!” Tony refused.

“It’s gonna be fun, I promise, let’s go and fetch the ball,” Steve asked once more, but Tony shook his head energetically as his grip tightened. He sighed heavily. 

Steve had gotten the idea of bringing Tony to the park. Some fresh air and a change of scenery would do him some good, as it couldn’t be so healthy to stay behind closed doors all the time. Bucky had thought it was a good idea too, Tony? Not so much. After having changed his diaper and dressed him with something more appropriate for the location shots, he had put Tony down on his crib while Bucky and him got changed. Everything had been going so smooth until Bucky made the mistake of announcing Tony what they had in mind. It had taken them several minutes to detach Tony from the bars he’d decided to hug hard to refrain them from taking him outside. 

“You look like a gay couple taking his child for a walk,” Clint had mocked them on their way out, and Steve had been certain Tony would have babbled a curse if he hadn’t been so focused on wailing in an ear-splitting way at the same time he tried to hold to something that avoid Steve to keep walking. 

“I guess I’m taking him outside from now on when he doesn’t stop crying,” Bucky had commented when Tony went completely silent as soon as they exited the Tower – through the back door to avoid unwanted attention – clearly not wanting anyone to see him cry like that. 

They had walked all the way to Central Park. After having given it a lot of thought, Steve had decided that would be the perfect place to take Tony. It was an outdoor place, where they could really get some fresh air and it wouldn’t be so crowded as it was a weekday in mid-midmorning – almost everybody would be either working or in the school. Tony had refused to take a look at the surroundings, hiding his face in the crook of his neck during all the way. It was the first time he left the Tower since all this had happened, so Steve hadn’t pushed him, he had just patted his back gently and whispered soothing words in his ears. 

“Do you think we should go back?” Bucky asked him, sitting down next to him on the grass, reaching for the diaper bag to put the small ball inside. They’ve been trying to get Tony to play with it for almost an hour, but Tony had refused to leave Steve’s side, using his chest to hide. 

“C’mon Tony, nobody knows who you are, there’s no need to hide,” Steve promised, and he wasn’t lying. The khaki overalls with the face of a bear on the bib, with the yellow polo onesie under it and the white sneakers made him look like any other kid – and extremely cute, but that’s something Steve wouldn’t say out loud – nobody would ever imagine it was Tony Stark. And there was no way somebody would recognize Steve or Bucky either, Tony was the one who had no problem with showing the world he was Iron man, but everyone else did try to keep their identities hidden. 

“What about the swings or the slides, doll? Would you like to give them a try?” Bucky suggested, stretching his arm out so he could give his shoulder a little squeeze. 

“Huum!” Tony whined, shaking Bucky’s hand off. 

“We can’t go home yet, we haven’t done anything,” Bucky argued, turning one corner of his mouth down. He looked at Steve and then pointed with his chin at the baby swings that were a few feet from them. 

Steve looked at them and frowned, not sure if that would be a would idea. Tony didn’t seem to be comfortable out there at all, and he didn’t want to make him feel worse. Yes, it was true that he had taken Tony outside against his will, but Steve had been sure Tony would eventually relax a little and enjoy it. Tony – baby or adult – always seemed to refuse to do anything new unless being pushed, even if he almost always ended up liking it at the end. 

Perhaps one more slight push, just to make sure taking Tony out was not going to be an option as long as he was in his current state, wouldn’t be that bad. 

“Let’s go,” Steve announced, already standing up with Tony in his arms, who insisted on keeping his face hidden. “There’s not use staying here,” he proclaimed, walking towards the swings. 

Swallowing his guilt down, as all tension left Tony’s body evidently thinking they were finally leaving, Steve held him out and sat him in the swing that Bucky was keeping still. For a moment, Tony’s confused expression told Steve he didn’t know what had just happened, but when Bucky asked him to hold tight before he gave the swing a little push, the expression of betrayal in Tony’s face before it crumbled with fear and began to cry made his heart break in two.

“I don’t think he likes it,” Steve stated when he saw Tony reaching his arms to him, big tears shedding from his eyes as he sobbed. 

“But I’m not swinging him hard,” Bucky argued, giving him another push. “C’mon, doll, give it a try, it’s fun,” he encouraged.

“Dada,” Tony called with a tiny and shaky voice, and Steve couldn’t take it anymore. He knew for a fact that Tony called him like that because he couldn’t pronounce his name correctly, but it was also true that he just called for _dada_ when he was really stressed. 

“Come here, baby boy, it’s OK, I’m sorry,” Steve soothed, lifting Tony into his arms once more. Tony latched onto his shirt immediately. “I guess this wasn’t such a good idea after all,” he admitted as he bounced Tony slightly. 

“I guess not,” Bucky agreed before sighing heavily, picking up the diaper bag so he could carry it over his shoulder.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, we’re going home,” Steve announced, his embrace on Tony tightening. 

The walk back home was going to be a bit long, since they had gone deep into the park looking for a deserted playground. Even though Steve rejected the idea of taking a taxi or call Happy to pick them up, certain that the less interaction Tony had with anybody, the less stressed he would get. 

After having walked a few feet, Steve started to look for a bathroom, noticing Tony’s diaper needed changing. As expected, Tony didn’t like the idea that much, but Steve apologized and explained him he didn’t want him to get a rash just because he had left him too much time with a wet diaper on. Rashes had become Tony’s favorite thing, so he didn’t have any other choice but to agree. 

“I’ll be quick,” Steve said to Bucky as the latter handed him the diaper bag, not wanting to stay more time than necessary out there. The sooner they go back to the Tower, the faster Steve could try to make it up to Tony, because there was no doubt he was going to be mad at him. 

“Look at those mini-boats,” Bucky commented when Steve stepped outside the bathroom, pointing with his index at the five or six models boats that were sailing in the water, making Steve notice the pond in front of them which he had totally missed before. 

“They must be remote controlled,” Steve said, observing at the people near the pond with what seemed to be the transmitters in their hands. Steve had never understood why people seemed so fascinating with all the remote control toys, and he would have turned around to continue their way home if Bucky hadn’t elbowed him, indicating him with his eyes to look down at Tony. 

Of all the time they’ve been outside, if was the first time Steve saw Tony turning his head a little bit to peek out at his surroundings, eyes fixed on the pond in front of them. How could he have forgotten he had in his arms the most addicted person to those kind of gadgets he had ever known? 

With a silent agreement, Bucky gestured him he would head to the place where, apparently, those boats could be rented. Slowly, Steve walked nearer to the edge of the pond, paying close attention to Tony, determined to leave if he showed any sign of not wanting to be there, but Tony didn’t. Even when Steve sat down on the floor – crossed-leg with Tony stood up between his legs and the diaper bag beside him – Tony didn’t try to hide himself against his chest anymore, he even turned around so he was with his back against him, facing the pond, a hand held up close to his mouth in a sign of longing. 

“Do you want to play with one of those, sweetheart?” Steve asked, caressing Tony’s belly, getting a silent no as an answer. “That’s shame, because your papa is heading right here with one of those, I guess I’m going to have to play with it then,” he announced, smiling when Tony turned around to see Bucky and verify if what he had just said was true. Two of Tony’s tip fingers disappeared inside his mouth.

“I hope you like the one I chose,” Bucky said as he stopped in front of them, squatting down and holding the red remote control boat, around 13 inches long, “They told me this was the fastest they had,” he informed, moving it closer to encourage Tony to touch it, but Tony stepped back until his back was pressed against Steve’s abdomen, the look in his face showing how badly he wanted to grab it but not daring to do it. 

Steve pressed a quick kiss on the top of his head before shaking his head slowly, making Bucky understand that he shouldn’t push Tony anymore, and then pointed with his chin at the pond. Bucky stood up and walked as close as he could to the edge, and left the boat on the water. 

“Let’s see if it goes as fast as they promised,” Bucky commented, sitting down next to Steve with the radio transmitter in his hands and moving the joysticks to make the boat move. 

For someone who had never played with those toys, Bucky made the boat do some impressive stunts. The more Steve saw the model boat, the more he came to wonder if Bucky had done those same stunts while being inside of a real boat. Bucky might have, taking into consideration all the things he had been forced to do while being the Winter Soldier. Steve even felt like taking the transmitter from his hands to see if he could control the toy like that. And he would have done that, if he hadn’t felt Tony squirming slightly against his chest. 

“Is there something wrong, buttercup?” Steve asked, rubbing a thumb against his left forearm, but he got no answer. Tony just kept glancing back and forth between Bucky and the boat, unable to make up his mind whether he wanted to play with it or not. “Do you want to play with the boat? Because if you want to, Papa’s willing to give you the remote,” Steve informed, “and look, all the owners of the other boats are adults, there are no kids here right now, all of them are in the school,” he encouraged, knowing perfectly well that one of the reasons Tony was refraining himself from asking for the transmitter was that he didn’t want to be seen doing something childish out in the public. 

“Wan,” Tony said with a tiny voice after several minutes of considering what Steve have said, a hand clutching Steve’s sleeve. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve asked, even though he had heard correctly the first time. Maybe he shouldn’t, but he liked to press Tony for audible words, he needed to learn it was alright to speak up his mind, especially when it was something related to what he wanted. Hopefully, that lesson would stick in his mind when he went back to being an adult. 

“Wan,” Tony repeated a bit louder, though the fingers in his mouth made it sound muffled. 

“Oh, you want to play with the boat,” Steve clarified it for him, Tony nodded shyly. 

“Wait your turn,” Bucky said jokingly, handing the remote to Steve so he could hold it for Tony, since his hands were too small to do that. 

Still a bit hesitatingly, Tony reached for the transmitter and move both the joysticks several times to see how it worked. It took him no time to figure out how it did, and Steve was pretty sure he would have made the boat do better stunts than Bucky if he had had better control of his own movements. Tony even ended up playing some races against the other boat owners, who thankfully never got close to them – it would have been hard to explain how a baby could control a boat like that. 

When more people started to arrive, indicating them that the lunch hour was in progress, Steve knew it was time to leave, Tony might not have hated their little trip that much at the end, but he wasn't sure how he would feel if he suddenly found himself in the middle of a larger crowd. 

To his surprised, Tony whined when he announced their departure, and Bucky had to pay a considerable amount of money to be able to take the boat with them, because Tony had refused to let go of it. It was the first time Tony showed interest on having something, so of course Steve was willing to let him have it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if all the facts were accurate. I've never been to Central Park (though I hope I can visit it someday), I don't know if it's always crowded, or if it's possible to find certain areas like deserted at certain hours, or whether you can rent RC boats there, of if there's a bathroom near the Conservatory Water, so, if you're from NY and I got the facts like very wrong, let me know so I can make some changes. 
> 
> I got the idea from the Stuart Little movie (I'm not a fan of it, but I've seen it and it was on TV the other night, so...) I just wanted Tony to be outside the Tower, and even if I would have liked the swings to be enough for him, I guess they wouldn't, and he would need something 'techonological' to really forget this mortification of being outside and enjoy the moment. 
> 
> BTW, [these are](https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/originals/93/a0/20/93a020f95d0bf26ebf63c232967fde12.jpg) the overalls I imagined Tony wearing, though with a different T-shirt. I don't know, I just thought it looked cute. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this chapter in spite of all the inaccuracies and mistakes n_n'


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Geez, I really haven't had time to write lately. Too much work. I've been trying to finish this for like two weeks, and I just couldn't get around to it. 
> 
> Thank you for all your kudos and comments, they're very appreciated! :)

“Tony!” Steve yelled, making him literally jump, “I told you to stop putting things in your mouth!” he scolded as he walked towards where Tony was and squatted down in front of him, reaching for the toy car Tony had in his mouth, pulling it out. What the hell? Tony didn’t remember putting that thing there! “It’s been on the floor, it’s dirty. Besides, you can swallow it by accident and choke,” he continued, slapping Tony’s hand with no real heat when the latter tried to take it back. Tony glared at him. "Would you pay more attention to him, please?" Steve asked, turning his head to look at Bruce.

"Sorry, I must've been too engrossed in this," Bruce apologized, lifting the RC race car he had in his hands, taken apart. Tony stuck out his tongue at Steve, blowing a raspberry, before standing up with clumsy and slow movements and waddling towards Bruce, hugging his arm as soon as he was within reach.

Bruce was his favorite person right now.

After that trip to Central Park – which had turned out to be not that awful, though Tony would never admit that, afraid Steve and Bucky would take him outside again – Bucky had arrived one day with at least ten different RC toys. Steve hadn't approved of that action, arguing that Tony already had too many toys, but Bucky had pointed out that Tony didn't really like those ones and he needed something to entertain himself with. 

Bucky had been right. Pepper had bought plenty of toys when she found out what had happened to him, although the problem had been that she had purchased toys for babies and he wasn't a baby, not really. The only fun thing that Tony could do with the blocks, stuffed animals, and all of the other stupid soft toys he had was throwing them, and Steve always scolded him when he did that.

However, there had been a problem with the RC toys too: they moved too slowly. Tony liked things to move fast. He had kicked some cars and banged them against the floor as hard as he could to see if that allowed him access to the mechanism inside of them, determined to find a way to make them faster. Needless to say it hadn’t been possible, not without a screwdriver, and there was no way anybody would let him get his hands on such a sharp object now. Steve had scolded Tony and threatened him to take all the toys away if he kept banging them, believing Tony was just having a tantrum, but thankfully Bruce had dropped by and figured out what the thing that was upsetting him was almost immediately. 

"I don't understand why he wants them to go faster," Steve commented, looking at all the tools and disassembled toys around them. Bruce had gotten his toolbox and sat down on the floor with him, not once asking him to step away with the excuse that he might get hurt. Instead, Bruce had taken his tools out and proceeded to take the RC cars and Sky Vipers apart to see what modifications and improvements he could do on them, showing Tony everything. Yes, Bruce was cool indeed. 

"Well, one of the upgrades he always does to his armors is increasing their speed," Bruce commented, twisting the arm Tony was hugging so he could stroke Tony's hair.

"Well, I do understand why he'd like his armor to fly faster, that’s convenient during battle, but why the toys?" Steve argued, reaching for his head, but Tony dodge his hand. It was so Steve not to get why speed was something so awesome. "Oh, so you like when Bruce caresses you, but not when I do it?" Steve asked, sounding falsely offended. Tony stuck out his tongue again, making Bruce chuckle. "Oh, let's see how you like him when he throws a tantrum," Steve said to Bruce, squinting his eyes at Tony.

"Sho!" Tony cried, throwing a kick to him, but his leg was too short to reach Steve's tight. How did he dare to say that in front of Bruce? Tony Stark did not throw tantrums!

"Hey! Take it easy! I was joking," Steve assured, stretching his arms and placing his hands on Tony's sides, lifting him a little and pulling him closer.

"No!" Tony complained, squirming to get free. He didn't want to be with Steve right now, he wanted to be with Bruce so he could help him to improve his RC toys.

"Shhh, wait a second," Steve asked, lifting his shorts a little and sticking a finger inside his diaper. Tony hated it when he did that, because he knew it was something Steve did need to do in order to know if he needed a change, as Tony failed to notice he was wet most of the times, especially when his mind was focus on something else. "You need a change," he announced, and that was another thing Tony hated. Why did Steve have to say that aloud? That was _not_ necessary. 

"Changing the subject," Bruce said, while Steve stood up with Tony in his arms and headed to the sofa, putting him down on it. "It sounded like this wasn’t the first time Tony put something in his mouth," he stated, looking down at the toy in his hands to continued examining it.

"No, it's not. He's been sucking many things for the past days," Steve informed, unbuttoning Tony's shorts and pulling them down, revealing his soaked diaper. Tony whined. "It's OK sweetheart, I'll be quick," he promised, already peeling the diaper off and reaching for the baby wipes, using them to clean him the best he could.

"Sucking them or biting them?" Bruce asked.

"Huh... I don't know," Steve confessed, grabbing Tony's ankles to lift his legs so he could have a better access to his bottom. Tony squirmed, not liking how cold his diaper area felt. "What difference does it make?" Steve demanded as he started to rub some cream on Tony’s crotch. The latter closed his eyes, wondering where he would live after all this finished, because he certainly couldn’t live under the same roof as Steve and Bucky. His brain would surely bombard him with flashbacks of them changing his dirty diapers, and that would be quite embarrassing. 

"Well, if he's biting them, it may be because he's teething," Bruce informed, turning his head around to look at them just in time Steve was strapping his diaper in place and pulling up his shorts. Good, he didn't need more people to witness the distressing process of diaper changing.

"Teething? Isn't be too old for that?" Steve pointed out, helping Tony off the couch. He rolled his eyes when he saw Tony sticking out his tongue for the third time before he waddled to where Bruce was, though he managed to swat his padded bottom before Tony was out of reach. 

"There's not a certain age for teething, every baby has his own development," Bruce explained, smiling when Tony leaned against his back. He turned around and lifted him, sitting him on his lap. Why does everybody seem to think Tony wanted to sit down on their laps? Tony thought about complaining, but then he remembered Bruce was being awesome and he decided he could let it pass for now.

"But he has teeth," Steve informed.

"All of them?" Bruce questioned, placing the car on Tony's lap so he could see what he was doing.

"Err... I guess?" Steve answered, sounding unsure. 

"Seriously? You don't know? Haven't you been brushing his teeth?" Bruce questioned, shocked, turning his head around to look at Steve. Tony whined as he patted Bruce's leg energetically, why did he stop working on the car? Damn Steve! When was he going to stop interrupting them?

"Yes, but I'm usually the one who bathes him, Bucky is the one who takes care of the brushing," Steve explained, looking uncomfortable under Bruce’s look of disapproval. Tony couldn’t help feel sympathy for Steve, after all, not even Tony had bothered to check if he had all his teeth. Perhaps that was why he had a hard time eating solid food and not just because the muscles in his mouth refused to cooperate. 

Feeling curious, Tony opened his mouth and put two fingers inside it, but Bruce pull his hand out and took advantage to take a look. “Well, obviously he has all the incisors, I can even see a couple of molars emerging, but he doesn’t have any canines,” Bruce informed, grabbing Tony’s jaw gently to refrain him from closing his mouth, Tony glared at him, not liking the intrusion. “I can’t believe none of you’d realized he didn’t have all his teeth,” he reprimanded.

“I told you, Bucky brushes his teeth, he might have noticed,” Steve retorted, scratching his head, “and me, well, I just haven’t paid attention. Though I don’t see why it matters that much,” he alleged. Tony wondered the same, what was the big deal? They already didn’t let him eat what he wanted, what else could some missing teeth cause? 

"Well, you said he's been putting things is his mouth, if he's chewing on them, that means he's having some discomfort and applying some pressure on his gums helps with that," Bruce explained, stroking Tony's hair. What the hell was he saying? Tony wasn't experiencing anything in his gums. Yes, he had found himself with different things in his mouth lately, but that didn't mean anything, even when he was an adult he put things like pens in his mouth all the time, especially when his mind was somewhere else. 

"I'll just pay more attention and stop him when he wants to chew on something," Steve promised. 

"It's not that, his gums might start to really hurt and that'll make him cranky, he’ll lose appetite and chew on whatever he can," Bruce stated, earning another glare from Tony. 

All Bruce was saying was nonsense, there was no way that was going to happen. Yes, Tony might be teething, but Bruce was forgetting one thing: he wasn't a baby even if his body looked like one. If he experienced some pain, Tony would do what he always did: ignore it and focus his mind on something else.

\- - - - 

“Ouch! It hurts! Stop it!” Clint screamed, pulling his hand a bit to gently for someone who claimed to feel pain. Perhaps he was afraid of hurting Tony if he pulled too hard, and Tony might have felt insulted for being showed consideration just because he was a ‘baby’, but not this time. Clint had been bothering him and he deserved to be bitten. “Let go, bratzilla!” Clint ordered, but Tony bit him harder. He hated it when Clint began to create nicknames for him.

“I told you not to bother him,” Natasha scolded, looking annoyed. 

“I wasn’t!” Clint alleged.

“Yes, you were. I was looking at you,” Natasha assured, glaring at him. 

“I was playing with him,” Clint said, “Ugh! Gross! You’re drooling all over my finger! Let go!” Clint demanded once more, his facial expression showing disgust as he pushed Tony away gently, though his finger continued trapped in his mouth.

“Well, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t fun for him, he was whining,” Natasha pointed out, taking advantage that Clint was busy to reach the remote. 

“Would you save the scolding for later and help me her with Mr. Poop Factory here?” Clint asked annoyed, Tony bit him harder. “Ouch! You’re really hurting me! Stop!” he complained. 

“Anthony!” Bucky yelled as soon as he stepped inside the room, startling Tony. “What do you think you’re doing?” he said, walking towards the sofa they all were sitting on, “Stop that now! Let Clint’s finger go,” he ordered, sitting down next to him and placing his hands on his cheeks, trying to make him open his mouth. Tony managed to keep his teeth pressed against Clint’s flesh for several seconds more before Bucky made him let Clint go. “You know better than to bite people like that,” Bucky scolded, swatting him patted bottom when he lifted him to place him on his lap. 

That was the only good thing about wearing diapers, Tony never felt the swats Steve and Bucky delivered from time to time. Although Tony doubted the spanks were meant to hurt him, he was sure they were just a way to draw his attention.

“Jesus, you’re like a little shark,” Clint complained looking down at his finger, the bite marks clearly visible.

"Are you OK?" Bucky asked Clint, Tony saw Natasha rolling her eyes. 

"Don't be such a baby, you’ve broken bones during battles and you’ve acted like if that was nothing but a scratch," Natasha recalled, "besides, I told you. You deserved that bite, you provoked him." 

"Are you sure that's why Tony bit him?" Bucky questioned, squinting his eyes at Tony. He stuck his tongue out, knowing perfectly well what Bucky was thinking. 

"Yes, why do you ask?" Natasha answered, taking a cushion and hitting Clint on the face with it, clearly annoyed by the fake grimace on his face. 

Ever since Bruce had told Steve about the teething, they've been all over him. Asking him whether if he felt pain and getting all paranoid when Tony happen to put something in his mouth. It had been really annoying, and Tony didn't know what he could do to make them understand he was perfectly fine. 

"Well, according to Bruce, Tony's teething. Steve and I suspect he's having some discomfort in his gums, but Mr. Stubborn here refuses to tell us anything about it," Bucky explained, earning a glare from Tony. 

"Teething?! That's not possible! He has teeth, he just bit me!" Clint said, pointing at Tony accusingly. 

"Yes, but he doesn't have all of them," Bucky pointed out. 

"He doesn't? It certainly felt like he does! Let me see," Clint asked, bending so his head was at Tony's level, "open up," he ordered, Tony's glare deepened. Clint stuck his tongue out. Natasha pulled him from his t-shirt.

“Stop bothering him, he’s going to bite you again, and I’m gonna kick your ass if I hear you complaining again,” Natasha warned, “Anyway, if Tony was in pain, he’d find a way to let you know, wouldn’t he?” she suggested, ignoring Clint’s pouty face. 

“Have you met Tony? Every time he’s gotten sick, he’s hid in his workshop and we’ve found out about his condition until he’s gotten to sick and JARVIS has had no other option but to let us know,” Bucky said, looking disapprovingly at him. 

“I guess you’ve got a point,” Natasha admitted, smiling victoriously when Clint tried to take the control remote away from her and failed. “Sorry, I’m choosing the movie,” she informed. 

Bucky moved a bit backwards so he could lean his back against the back of the couch and settled Tony on his lap more comfortably. When Tony saw the bottle Bucky produced out of nowhere, he thought about complaining and refusing to drink from it, but if he had been left under the care of Clint and Natasha for a brief time, it had been because he had been thirsty and Bucky had gone to get him something to drink. 

Reluctantly, Tony allowed Bucky to slide the nipple into his mouth and he started sucking, biting back a groan when the flavor that hit his taste buds pleased him. Apple juice, he had been enjoying apple juice a lot lately. He fixed his eyes on the screen in front of him while he kept drinking, determined to complain if Natasha chose a movie too childish, like Steve and Bucky insisted. Fortunately, she chose an action movie. 

Soon, Tony got so engrossed in the movie he totally missed the fact that he started to chew on the nipple of the bottle instead of sucking it.

\- - - - 

Every time Tony thought this situation couldn’t get worse, he was proven wrong. He didn't care it was incorrect, he was so going to torture Loki when he got his hands on him. Slowly.

His gums had started to bother him. It started with an insignificant ticklish sensation, which Tony was able to ignore pretty much all the time, and if it got too annoying, he would chew on whatever he could get into his mouth. 

Unfortunately, it began to happen so frequently that Steve and Bucky had realized there was something wrong now, and they had just become a pain in the ass. There was not a single minute when they didn’t have their eyes on him, and whenever Tony intended to put something in his mouth, they stopped him and scolded him. 

"Tony, let it go," Steve ordered, pulling the bottle trying to get it away from him, but Tony kept biting it hard, refraining Steve from moving it away. 

"You see, I know he must be experiencing some kind of discomfort, he's been doing that lately," Bucky informed, clearly referring to his recent chewing habit. 

"Tony, buddy, if there’s something that’s bothering you, you can tell us. I know you’d like us to leave you alone, but we just want to make you feel better," Steve explained, still trying to free the nipple from his mouth. 

If they wanted to make him feel better, why didn't they let him chew on whatever he wanted? Didn't they realize that was the only way he could get rid of that annoying sensation? 

"No!" Tony whined when Bucky tickled the sole of his right foot, forcing him to open his mouth and let go of the nipple. "Me!" he complained, stretching his arm out towards the bottle, but Steve raised it and kept it out of his reach. 

"You already finished the milk sweetheart, you're just going to swallow air if you continue, and that’s going to cause you colic,” Steve said, placing an arm around his waist to prevent him from falling down now that Tony had stood up on his lap, determined to get the bottle back. 

"I'm telling you, his gums must be bothering him, that's why he keeps doing that," Bucky insisted, taking the bottle from Steve's hand and putting it on the coffee table. 

"Is that true, Tony?" Steve asked, tightening his grip as Tony kept trying to reach for the bottle. 

"No!" Tony lied. 

"Hey, stop it, you're not getting it back," Steve ordered, lifting him a little and sitting him once more on his lap. Tony kicked him in the tight as a protest. 

"Maybe we should ask Bruce to check on him," Bucky suggested, his hand poking Tony on the nose, earning a glared from him. 

"What for? He already told me all there's to know. The thing here is that this little man doesn't tell us what's wrong," Steve complained, voice exhausted. Tony would have given him the finger if he hadn't been busy trying to get Bucky's hand away from his face. Why did they keep pinching his cheeks? What was wrong with them? Did they really think Tony like it?

"Well, at least he hasn't gotten fever and his appetite hasn't really changed," Bucky pointed out, now poking his forehead. 

"Top!" Tony demanded, managing to grab Bucky’s fingers with his chubby hands. 

"You mean, he's still not eating correctly," Steve paraphrased, looking at Tony disapprovingly. Tony ignored him, still struggling to move Bucky’s hand away from him. 

"Exactly," Bucky agreed. "You know, I was thinking, what if we get him a pacifier? He seemed to be into biting things lately. That might help," he proposed, drawing Tony's attention. 

A pacifier? No, thank you very much! No way! That was for babies, and he was not a baby! He didn't need a damn pacifier! Yes, he was already drinking from bottles, but that was just because drinking from glasses was not an option for him right now. But sucking on a pacifier had not purpose whatsoever! 

"What do you think, doll?" Bucky asked him, and Tony's 'no' would have sounded more convincing and less muffled if Bucky’s finger hadn't been inside his mouth.

How on earth had Bucky's finger ended up in his mouth?!

\- - - - 

Tony kicked his legs in frustration when ten more minutes had passed and he hadn’t been able to fall asleep. That tickling sensation in his gums had turned into a mild, but annoying, pain and it was just driving him crazy.

More slowly than he would like to, Tony stood up and grabbed the bars of the crib to keep his balance. There was no point on denying it, he needed to be comforted and he needed it now. He had been really cranky over the last couple of days, and even if Tony would like to deny it, Steve and Bucky’s cuddles seemed to help with his discomfort. Man! he would really have to move out when everything went back to normal, the more childish things he allowed himself to do, the more embarrassing it would be to be around them later. 

Or maybe Tony could kick them out. 

"Avi!" Tony called JARVIS, not really in the mood of crying to attract Steve and Bucky’s attention. It was better to get JARVIS to do it. "Avi!" he repeated when he got no answer. "Avi! Tif!" 

"Sir, I can't understand you and you know it," JARVIS answered, and even if that wasn't really possible, Tony could swear JARVIS’ voice sounded frustrated. 

"Tif! Uky!" Tony repeated, making emphasis on his words by stomping his right foot against the mattress. How hard was it to understand? It wasn't like he was reciting a line from Shakespeare!

"Sir, I don't..."

"TIF!" Tony insisted, tears welling in his eyes. Why hadn't he developed a software that translated baby talk? He was definitely doing that as soon as he could step foot in his workshop again!

"Hey, sweetheart, are you mortifying JARVIS again?" Steve asked as he opened the door of the nursery. Tony raised his arms immediately, demanding to be picked up. "We've asked you not to talk to him, he can't really understand you," Steve said, scooping him up, "why are you still awake, buddy? We put you to bed hours ago. Do you need a change?" he questioned.

"No," Tony replied, though he could feel Steve checking his diaper anyway. 

"No, you don't," Steve announced, rubbing his back. Tony couldn't help melting into Steve’s body. "Are you feeling bad, sweetheart?" he asked, placing a hand over his forehead, checking for his temperature. 

"No," Tony repeated, raising his hands to grabbed Steve's. 

"No, you don't have a fever," Steve assured, letting Tony hold his fingers, but he resisted when Tony attempted to move them near his mouth, making him whine, "no Tony, we've talked about this, you can go sucking on people's fingers," Steve scolded him, making Tony whined more. 

At the beginning, neither Steve nor Bucky had cared when Tony seemed to have acquired a certain attachment to their fingers, and they had let him chew on them for short periods of time when his gums felt too sore. But eventually, Steve had refused to let him do it, arguing it wasn’t very hygienic, and that had been when the insistence on using a pacifier had begun. 

"No," Tony whimpered when Steve moved his hand away from him. 

"No Tony, you can have the pacifier if you want, but that's it," Steve maintained, walking outside the nursery towards the living room, where Bucky was settled on the couch. 

"Is he OK?" Bucky asked, looking worried. Tony stretched his arms out, wanted Bucky to take him in his arms. "C’mon here, baby boy," Bucky soothed, reaching for him. 

As soon as Tony was settle on Bucky’s lap, he grabbed his metallic wrist. Steve realized when Tony sucked on his finger right away, but Bucky didn't. He might be able to move his prosthetic arm at will, but that didn't mean he could sense the wetness his drool caused when Tony put one if his fingers in his mouth. Of course it wasn’t the same as chewing on a real finger, but Tony figured that would have to do for now. 

"Bucky, he's doing it again," Steve warned, and if looks could kill, Steve would be dead by now. 

"No," Tony whined miserably when Bucky moved away his hand, trying to reach for it, but Bucky placed his other arm around his waist, keeping him in place. 

"Sorry, Tony, but you know you can’t do that," Steve said, stroking his hair. Tony shook his head to shrug it off. 

"We know you feel uncomfortable doll, let's us help," Bucky soothed, rubbing a thumb against his belly, "why don't you give it a try?" he suggested, producing that damn pacifier he'd been offer a lot lately out of nowhere. Tony shook his head effusively and closed his mouth as hard as he could when Bucky pressed the nipple against his lips. "C'mon, it's just like your bottle, but you _can_ chew this one," Bucky insisted, but Tony turned around and hid his face in Bucky’s abdomen. 

"Tony, baby, it's OK, nobody's gonna make fun of you, I promise," Steve reassured, rubbing his back affectionately. "Your papa and I surely won't, and if anybody else does, we're gonna kick his ass," he promised, but Tony kept shaking his head. 

"Yeah, and you don't have to use it in front of anybody else, you can only use now, so you can get to sleep," Bucky said, still trying to get the pacifier into his mouth, unsuccessfully. 

Three hours later, the three of them were still in the living room. Tony had lost his composure a little more than an hour ago and had let himself cry his frustration into Bucky’s neck. He was tired, crankier than ever, and all he wanted to do was to sleep, but he couldn't. The pain in his gums were getting more annoying than ever, and Steve and Bucky even refused to let him put his own hand in his mouth. 

“Tony, kiddo, stop being so stubborn,” Steve asked, his voice too gently for Tony’s like. “Just give it a try, if it doesn’t help, you can spit it out and I promise we’ll never bother you with it again.” OK, Tony had to admit that sounded like a good deal. Because how a pacifier could help him? They were meant to be sucked, not chewed. He could just pretend it was not use, and Steve and Bucky would stop bothering him once and for all. 

“Pwomi?” Tony questioned, turning his head a little so he could see Steve. 

“I promise,” Steve affirmed, holding the pacifier in front of his face. 

Still a bit hesitant, Tony looked back and forth between the pacifier and Steve, and opened his mouth after several minutes, allowing Steve to push it inside. Instinctively, Tony gave it lazy suck, not really liking how comfortably it settled on his tongue, and then he remembered he wasn’t supposed to suck it, but chew on it, so he did. 

Damn. It helped. It helped even more than the nipple of the bottles. Oh, the hell with everything, at this pace, by next week, he was going to… he was going to…OK, Tony couldn’t really think of anything only babies did that he hadn’t done already, which couldn’t be a good sign. But he was too tired to keep bashing himself, so he closed his eyes, unable to fight against the exhaustion that threatened to take over him. Steve’s smiling face was the last thing he saw.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I wasn't sure about this. You may say that the whole "plot" wasn't really believable, but remember I told you this was kind of plotless, which for me means it can be a bit illogical too sometimes :p.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you'd enjoyed it.


	7. Chapter 7

Tony had been having nightmares as far back as he could remember. 

At the beginning, it hadn’t been that bad. Yes, being abruptly awaken by a bad dream was never something pleasant, but at least Jarvis had always been there to comfort him afterwards. The problem started when Tony was sent to a boarding school, where he found himself with no one to run to after a particular bad nightmare. 

But he was a Stark, and Starks needed to man up, so eventually he got used to them. He would choke back the screams his body demanded to release instinctively and try to catch his breath before getting up and change his soak-in-sweat pajamas, wishing the nightmare didn’t continue once he got back to bed. That was not a problem, though. Tony could almost never fall asleep again. 

When Tony became an adult, the nightmares got worse. His parents’ dead, the torture he suffered in Afghanistan, Obadiah’s betrayal, the possibility of dying due to palladium poisoning, the damn wormhole, all those events and many others surely gave Tony’s brain plenty ideas of how to trouble him while he was asleep, and there was nothing Tony could do about it. Nothing but going to bed until he was about to pass out due to exhaustion, his brain being so overburdened to create dreams. That was one of the reasons Tony really didn’t care spending days in a row working in his workshop, he was more than used to all that. 

Therefore, Tony wasn’t surprised today when he woke up in a cold sweat with the images of the nightmare still fresh in his mind and his heart beating much faster than normal.

After taking some minutes to fully awake, Tony propped himself up a little on his forearms, and furrowed his brows when the surroundings looked unknown to him. He didn’t remember where he had fallen asleep, and, to be honest, he was taken aback by the fact his eyes never met any bars – he was getting very used to waking up in his crib. Instead, Tony saw a couple of cushions beside him, and Steve sitting in front of him on the same sofa he was lying on. Oh, the living room. 

“Hey sweetheart, are you still sleepy?” Steve asked him, startling him a little, “take it easy, it’s just me, it’s dada,” he reassured, stretching his arm so he could place it on his back, caressing it gently. 

Tony didn’t like when Steve referred to himself as dada, if he called him like that was just because of his recent poor speaking skills and nothing else, but right now he wasn’t in the mood of complaining about that. 

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve questioned when he saw Tony crawling over him, holding him in his arms as soon as Tony reached his thigh. Tony melted into him almost immediately, enjoying the hug more than he should or let himself admit. “Tony, is there something wrong? You’re trembling,” Steve stated, tightening his embrace. 

“No,” Tony denied in a tiny voice, hiding his face in the crook of Steve’s neck. 

“I wish, for once, you told me the truth,” Steve said with a tone of voice that made Tony feel guilty.

Speaking his mind was something Tony had never been comfortable with, and it was kind of annoying when Steve insisted on knowing something that really didn’t concern him. However, there wasn’t the slightest doubt that Steve had the best intentions, and the only reason he wanted to keep up with whatever Tony was experiencing was because he wanted to help him and make him feel better. 

But, even if Tony would have liked to this time, there was no way he could tell Steve that a nightmare had been the thing that had upset him this much. Because then, Steve would want to know what the nightmare had been about; and it was just too embarrassing to recognize that, of all the bad dreams Tony usually had – which could easily stop anybody else from having a peaceful night’s sleep ever again – a simple and stupid clown had been the one to had managed to scared him like this. 

\- - - -

It was stupid. Incredibly stupid. There were no such things as killing clowns. 

OK, maybe there were some insane people out there who dressed up as clowns and did all kinds of horrible things like killing people, but there was no way one of those people were inside the Tower, inside his closet. There were no security breaches in his Tower, Tony had made sure of that after SHIELD was able to break into. The noise coming from the closet that Tony had heard must have been a product of his imagination. Just as the freaking clown he had been seeing in his dreams lately. 

But what if it wasn't? What if his dreams were premonitions and a spooky clown was really going to kill him? What was he going to do when the clown finally arrived? With this body he couldn't use his armor, and his fighting skills were limited to biting and crying. 

No, no, no. All that was pure nonsense. Being kidnapped and tortured, that was something he could be afraid of, but a clown? Seriously? What was wrong with him?! It wasn't enough that he had the needs of a baby, did he also have to deal with childish fears? What the hell?! Tony wasn't going to let that happen! He was an adult, for God's sake! He knew better than to believe in freaking killing clowns. Tony was going to calm down – OK, and adult didn’t calm down by sucking on a pacifier, but Tony wasn’t going to focus on that, it was soothing, and soothing was something he needed desperately right now – he was going to forget this nonsense, he was going to close his eyes and try to sleep, and if he happened to have another nightmare, he was going to suck it up!

But then another shriek came from the closet, and Tony found himself standing up with his back pressed against the farthest corner of the crib, the sheets ceasing to be enough to protect him from whatever there was there with him in the room and the pacifier stopping to be soothing.

"Dada! Papa!" he called, spitting out his pacifier. The hell with everything, tomorrow he would man up, but today he just didn't want to sleep there all by himself. Not when there was a killing clown in his closet trying to set himself free. "DADA! PAPA!" He repeated when he obtained no answer, his eyes fixed on the doors of the closet, because, holy shit, Tony swore they just moved, like if someone was pushing them from the inside. "DADAAA!!" he cried. 

And in that precise moment, the doors opened abruptly, and a horrible sound could be heard. Tony’s heart threatened to escape from his body and without being able to help it, he started to wail as he attempted to climb out of the crib, but failing to do so. 

"Tony, baby, what’s wrong? What was that noise?" Steve asked, slamming the door open and rushing to the crib. Tony raised his hands immediately, demanding to be picked up, because the freaking nonexistent clown had gotten out of the closet and he was just irrationally scared. “It’s alright Tony, everything’s alright,” Steve soothed, allowing him to clutch his shirt.

“What was it? What was that noise?” Bucky questioned as he walked through the door, turning the lights on.

“I don’t know,” Steve answered, bouncing Tony, who kept wailing in spite of himself. “It sounded like…,” Steve made a pause, and Tony didn’t need to see him to know Steve wasn’t happy about something. His disapproval was almost tangible sometimes. “So, when you told me you’d put everything away, what you meant was that you just threw everything in the closet?” Steve asked, voiced pissed. 

“Well, a lot of things didn’t fit in the boxes anymore, and it was getting late, and…” Bucky trailed off, surely remembering Steve didn’t like excuses, especially when they were not valid.

Boxes? Tony turned his head around just enough to be able to see the closet out of the corner of his eye, and couldn’t help feeling extremely embarrassed when he saw that the killing clown who had managed to get out of the closet turned out to be nothing but a bunch of boxes which had been wrongly piled up and had fallen down. 

That same afternoon, Steve and Bucky had decided to finally check everything that Pepper had bought for him, as they hadn't had time to go through the dozens of toys, clothes, and gear that she had acquired. But the closet had been completely full, literally, and they hadn't been able to finish. By the time it got dark, Tony had gotten too cranky for being left inside the crib for a long time, so Steve had taken him to the kitchen to fix him something to eat, and Bucky had been left with the assignment of putting everything back so it wasn't in the way. 

Evidently, Bucky hadn't done a very good job. 

"You see, there's nothing to be afraid of, it was just some boxes that your silly papa didn't place correctly," Steve told him, pressing a kiss to the top of his head. Tony said nothing, but he got mortified by the fact that Steve had known perfectly well why he had begun to cry. 

"I'm sorry for scaring you, doll," Bucky apologized, stroking his hair. Tony hid his face in Steve’s neck, not mad at Bucky in the slightest, he was just relieved there was no clown. 

"It's late, let's go back to sleep," Steve suggested.

"No!" Tony cried, throwing his hands around Steve’s neck, hugging it tightly. Sleeping in there alone? No, thank you very much. What if the boxes hadn't fallen down by themselves? What if the clown had been behind them and had pushed them? What if he showed himself once Steve and Bucky left? Tony's adult mind knew that was not possible, but, the baby side in him insisted on the possibility of a clown being there. 

"Don't worry sweetheart, you're sleeping with me tonight, that was quite a scare you got there," Steve said as we walked out of the nursery, "and tomorrow we're making sure your papa cleans that mess," Steve assured, Bucky just rolled his eyes, but he smiled apologetically at Tony.

\- - - -

There was something in his mouth. Steve could feel something in his mouth. But what was it? He wasn't drinking anything, was he? No, he was pretty sure he was asleep. Well, perhaps he was a bit conscious now, but not conscious enough to figure out what was that something he had in his mouth.

Maybe it was just a product of his imagination, maybe he was more asleep than he realized. He was going to go back to sleep and when he woke up for real, he was going to verify what it was, if it continued there. It might not. Steve was still too tired to get up, and he didn't have to open his eyes to know it was still dark outside. So, having made up his mind, Steve tried to fall asleep once more, and he would have traveled to dreamland soon after if that thing in his mouth hadn't moved. 

"Whu?!" he exclaimed, snapping his eyes open and getting surprised to see a lump in from of his nose, coming from his mouth. What on earth was that? And it was moving! 

Taking some seconds to completely come to his senses – during which Steve’s brain insisted on imagining weird things trying to guess what that lump was – he felt relieved when his brain was finally able to put two and two together. Tony's foot had somehow ended in his mouth during his sleep. Gently, so Steve wouldn't wake Tony up, he grabbed his foot and took it out and away from his mouth. 

This couldn't continue. Neither Bucky nor he were resting as they should, and that was not right, especially when they had a baby under their care. Yes, it was true they didn't need to sleep as much as a normal person did, but that didn’t mean they didn’t need to sleep or rest at all. But with Tony sleeping in the same bed, that was just not possible. Tony moved and fidget a lot during his sleep, making it impossible to get a restful night, not because of the movement itself, but because Tony had showed them a couple of nights ago that he could fall from the bed. Awful night that one, Bucky had pushed his bed against a corner of his room and surrounded Tony with several pillows, which Tony did not like, as he wanted to be able to come close to them if he woke up in the middle of the night and the pillows made that task difficult for him. 

Don’t misunderstand him, Steve loved having Tony around, and, to be honest, he was enjoying looking after baby Tony more than he should, but Steve had to put a stop to this insistence of Tony on sleeping with either of them, because that meant finding out and fixing the reason why Tony had been refusing to sleep alone. Besides, they weren’t the only ones who didn’t sleep correctly, Tony didn’t either. 

Steve was almost certain the thing that was bothering Tony were nightmares. His reluctance to sleep, his insistence to sleep with one of them, his sudden awakenings in the middle of the night, trembling and covered in cold sweat. Everything indicated that Tony was having bad dreams. The problem was that Tony refused to admit it and got mad whenever Steve of Bucky tried to talk about it. 

“Did you get a good night’s sleep?” Bucky asked as he headed to his bed. Steve had been too lost in thought that he hadn’t noticed when Bucky had entered his room. 

“Is that sarcasm?” Steve implied, rolling over until he was lying on his right side, seeing how Bucky sat down on the other side of the bed. 

“No,” Bucky assured as he reached for Tony’s back, rubbing it carefully. “How about him?”

“He woke up a couple of times,” Steve replied, looking how Tony stirred a bit under Bucky’s touch and gave a few lazy sucks to his pacifier, but he didn’t wake up. 

“We should do something, he’s not sleeping well, and neither are we," Bucky said, lying down on the bed, facing Steve," I mean, we know he's having nightmares, the problem is that he doesn’t tell us what they're about so we can help him," he complained, his finger playing with one of Tony's lock of hair. It was getting long, Tony would need a haircut very soon. 

"He _won't_ tell us anything," Steve assured, voice both annoyed and worried. "We need to find a way to prevent him from having nightmares."

"How do you do that?" Bucky asked, his expression showing he was already searching in his brain for an answer to his own question. 

"I don't know," Steve admitted. 

"A night light?" Bucky suggested. 

"I don't think that'll help a lot, he's been refusing to sleep by himself even for his afternoon nap." Steve pointed out, looking down at Tony as he started to fidget slightly. 

Bucky scratched his temple, still trying to come up with a solution. "What if he moved the crib to any of our rooms? I mean, he won't exactly be alone but he won't be on our beds either," he proposed. 

"Actually, that doesn't sound bad," Steve agreed, placing a hand on Tony's back, rubbing small circles on it. He was awakening and he got stressed if he thought he was alone. 

"Papa," Tony called with a tiny voice, pacifier falling from his mouth. 

"Yes doll, I'm here," Bucky soothed, smiling at him. 

"Papa," Tony repeated, propping himself up slowly and crawling closer to Bucky, cuddling against his chest once he was close enough. It didn't take long before Tony's breathing evened, fast asleep. 

“Well, then let’s try that,” Bucky said once he made sure Tony wasn’t listening. 

\- - - -

“Papa!” Tony cried, standing on his tiptoes and stretching out his arms above the side of the crib, reaching for him. 

“Tony, baby, you have to stay there,” Bucky said, stroking his hair but moving away when Tony tried to grab his arm. “You’ll sleep more comfortably in your crib,” he assured, fighting against the urge to pick him up and comfort him. 

“No!” Tony refused, big tears falling from his eyes.

“Yes doll, you stay here and papa’s going to sleep over there,” Bucky said, pointing at his bed, “you see, it’s not that far. If you need something, I’m gonna be right there,” he soothed as he took his small hand into his, rubbing the back of it with his thumb. 

“No!” 

“Yes,” Bucky insisted. He leaned over Tony and brushed a kiss over the top of his head, getting away from him quickly one more time to avoid Tony’s grasp. He might be a baby now, but once Tony clutched to them, it was almost impossible to detach him, more than anything because both Steve and he were worried they may hurt him if they tried too hard to push him away. 

In spite of himself, Bucky turned around and headed to his bed, pushing the covers back and getting under them. It was past midnight already, and even if Bucky had been expecting tiredness make Tony fall asleep since nine o’clock, it hadn’t happened yet. 

Every time Tony began to doze off, he shook off sleepiness and tried to do whatever he could to stay awake, like watching TV, playing with his RC toys or tablet, or fighting with them, because both Steve and he had decided to take everything away at a certain hour so Tony had no choice but to go to bed. Obviously, Tony didn’t like that, and he didn’t like it either when they tried to do something to make him sleep, so Steve and he had to be careful with that, otherwise they would end up with a very cranky and tired baby. And if they had thought that leaving him alone was the solution, they couldn’t have been more mistaken. He might not want them to scoop him up, but they couldn’t get away from him for more than a couple of meters either, or Tony would do what he was doing right now.

“Paa!” Bucky heard Tony say before the wails made it impossible to understand what Tony wanted to say next. 

On one of their lazy Sundays, when Clint flipped through the channels without really feeling like watching TV, Bucky remembered seeing a TV show where mothers complained about the fits their children threw. _Let them cry all they want until they calm down_ was the advice those mothers always got, but they always said they couldn’t stand hearing their children’s sobbing. Bucky had thought to himself that was a lame excuse, though now he totally understood them. All his being wanted to stand up and hold Tony in his arms to comfort him and calm him down, but he couldn’t. He shouldn’t. If Steve and he kept going along with this situation, neither Tony nor they would rest properly until Tony went back to normal. 

With that in mind, Bucky turned around and lied down on the bed in a way he was with his back towards Tony. Determined to sleep, he closed his eyes and tried to take his mind somewhere else, but even if Bucky knew Tony was having a kind of a tantrum, he couldn't help wondering if his cries were caused by something else. Because, even though Steve and he claimed that nightmares were the cause of all this, with Tony they could never be sure. 

Fifteen minutes and Tony got the hiccups, informing Bucky he had been crying for a little too long. Ten more minutes and Bucky could hear panic in his wails, like if Tony was realizing this time he wasn't going to get his way. Though that didn't mean he stopped crying, quite the opposite, his cries got louder and he even started to cough every now and then as he was forcing his throat and lungs a lot. Ten more minutes, and Bucky couldn't take it anymore. 

Feeling remorseful, Bucky got up and went to where Tony was – if Bucky was going to end up giving in, he shouldn't have let Tony cried that long. He slipped his hands under Tony’s armpits and hefted him up, holding him against his chest. Tony’s fingers curled desperately into the fabric of Bucky’s t-shirt, dampening it with his tears as soon as he hid his face against Bucky’s chest. 

“It’s OK doll, I’m here,” Bucky soothed, rubbing small circles on Tony’s back as he bounced him a little, “you’re OK.”

The feeling of guilt began to increase as Tony kept whimpering, to the point of considering the possibility of letting Tony do whatever he wanted for as long as he remained a baby if that prevented Tony from crying again. If Tony wanted to stay awake for as long as he could, why trying to stop him? It wasn’t like Tony hadn’t done that before, so it shouldn’t be a big deal, they’ll just wait for Tony to feel too exhausted to keep his eyes open.

Yes, that was what Bucky was determined to do. Or what he would have done if Tony hadn’t stopped crying after just five minutes and started to squirm as best he could. Steve was right, Tony did use the crying as a way to get away with what he wanted. 

“Stop, you’re gonna hurt yourself,” Bucky said, but his order fell on deaf ears.

“Daw!” Tony demanded, wriggling like if Bucky’s embrace was crushing him or something. 

“No, you’re gonna back to your crib and sleep, young man,” Bucky denied, trying to keep Tony in place without tightening his embrace a lot, afraid he might hurt his fragile body. 

“DAW!” Tony ordered, and Bucky would have gotten mad by Tony’s tone of voice if his face hadn’t looked so pitiful due to the trail of still fresh tears on his cheeks. 

Taking a deep breath, Bucky bend down and put Tony on the floor, keeping his hands close to him until he was sure Tony wasn’t going to lose his balance. Tony stuck his tongue out and turned around, waddling towards the bed. Taking the crib to his room hadn’t been such a great idea after all. Of course Tony wasn’t going to stay the, Bucky didn’t know why he had thought he would. 

“Need some help?” Bucky asked when he saw Tony had reached his bed and was trying to climb it up, unsuccessfully. He had to repress a smile, Tony was very difficult to look after indeed, but Bucky couldn’t deny his stubbornness was cute. 

“No!” Tony refused, determined to reach the top of the bed by himself, but his legs where to short and didn’t move as he commanded them, making the task impossible for him. 

Bucky stood up and walked towards him, sitting on the edge of the bed and outstretching his hand to Tony, but the latter pushed it away and kept trying to place one of his small feet between the mattress and the box spring, but it was too high for him. Rolling his eyes, Bucky placed a hand under his diaper-clad butt and pushed him gently until Tony was at the same level of the bed. Tony didn’t try to move his hand away this time, but he stuck his tongue once more at him before crawling to the corner of the bed. 

“Let’s try to get some sleep,” Bucky suggested. Tony threw a pillow at him as an answer. Or at least he attempted to do so, because the pillow was heavy for him now and he couldn’t throw it that far. 

“NO!” Tony denied, glaring at him. 

One more sleepless night. 

\- - - -

“So? How’s the not-sleeping problem going?” Bruce questioned.

“The same,” Steve replied, folding his arms over his chest. 

“And are you sure it’s nightmares?” Bruce insisted. 

“Well, he hasn’t really said that, but I’m sure that’s why. I’ve been observing him and the way he snaps his eyes open all terrified tells me it’s nightmares,” Steve explained. 

“But it’s not possible he hasn’t slept for a whole week,” Bruce argued, placing the book he was reading on his lap. 

“Oh, he has slept, but he falls sleep just when he’s completely exhausted and he wakes up three of four hours later all upset,” Steve said, voice sounding tired. 

“He must be extremely cranky,” Bruce commented, scratching his chin.

Steve sighed. “You have no idea. But I don’t mind his crankiness, not really, what’s bothering me is that he’s not resting as he should,” Steve admitted, turning his head a bit to see Bucky walking towards them with Tony in his arms. “By the way, don’t mention anything about this, you’ll make him crankier,” he warmed, Bruce nodded. 

“Hey, how you doing buddy?” Bruce greeted once Bucky was in front of them. Tony stretched his arms out, demanding Bruce to hold him. Bruce put his book away and stretched his arms out to, hinting Bucky it was OK to let Tony go with him. “How are your cars working?” Bruce asked, getting some babbles as an answer as well as gestures. Steve would have believed those were the babbles of a happy and excited baby if it hadn’t been for how tired Tony looked. There was something so wrong with a baby having dark circles under his eyes. “Oh, I see,” Bruce pretended he understood Tony, and Tony seemed to be delighted by that “let me know if you have any problems with them so I can fix them,” he offered and Tony nodded. 

“I’m hungry,” Bucky announced, sitting down on the armchair next to them. Steve knew Bucky wanted to sleep more than he wanted to eat, but it was easier to make Tony eat if they ate too. 

“I’m fixing us something for dinner,” Steve said as he stood up. “Bruce, would you like to join us?” 

“Sure,” Bruce agreed, tightening his grip on Tony as he leaned to reach for his book once more. “Meanwhile, what if you and I continue reading this book?” he proposed to Tony, already opening it and placing it on Tony’s lap so he could see it too. “I started reading it this afternoon, and I haven’t been able to stop.” Bruce informed. Tony looked up at him suspiciously, but didn’t say anything when Bruce began reading. Bruce could get away with everything, and Steve was sure he would spend more time with Tony if he himself wasn’t afraid of hulking out. 

“Eh, Bruce,” Steve called his attention, interrupting him.

"Don't worry, it's nothing inappropriate," Bruce assured, getting what Steve was thinking without him having to elaborate it. Yes, Steve knew Tony wasn't a real baby, but the more he could keep everything G-rated the less guilty his conscious would be. 

Sandwiches for them and a bottle with warm flavored formula for Tony, that was Steve was going to make for dinner. He'd like to give Tony something more solid, but he was trying to avoid doing the things that supposedly caused nightmares, and having a lot for dinner was one of them. 

From the kitchen, Steve could hear how Bruce read out loud the story about a robot kid and his friend the dog, and he even tried to pay attention to the story, but soon he got engrossed with the cooking, his voice turned into an indistinct murmur. Once the food was ready, he headed back to the living room taking with him a tray with the sandwiches and Tony's bottle, and he almost dropped it due to the surprise of seeing Tony completely limp on Bruce's arms. 

"How?" Steve asked, putting the tray down on the coffee table. "How?" he repeated.

"Shh!" Bucky hushed, placing his index finger in front of his mouth, expression mortified, "you're gonna wake him up!" he scolded, whispering and yelling at the same time. Bruce smiled at him without stopping reading, pointing at the book with his eyes. 

Reading a book, of course! That was a brilliant idea! Why hadn’t he thought of that? Whenever Tony cried in distress, their voices seemed to be a key point to help him calm down, so reading him a book made perfect sense. Although Steve doubted Tony would have allowed them to read to him, maybe he would have thrown a tantrum like he tended to do whenever they try to do something to make him fall asleep. 

“Now let’s hope his mind was engrossed enough with the story, that his dreams are about it,” Bruce commented after an hour, when the three of them were sure Tony was deeply asleep. 

Extremely carefully, Bruce took Tony to his nursery and put him down in his crib. Steve and Bucky held his breathe until Tony was all tucked in, afraid the movement or change of position might woke him up, and the hope of having a good night’s sleep vanished in the blink of an eye. But besides stirring a little and chewing on his own lower lip as a sign of wanting his pacifier, Tony remained still. 

It was very satisfying to see Tony sleeping peacefully after all his sleepless nights, so satisfying that Steve couldn’t take his eyes off him throughout the night. Bucky and Bruce went to bed when there wasn’t the slightest doubt Tony would keep sleeping for many hours more, but Steve stayed right there, sitting next to the crib, wanting to be there just in case Tony woke up. 

He didn’t.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here you have one more chapter. Hope you liked it :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sick today and I really didn't feel like doing nothing at work (not that I had to much to do today anyway), so I tried to distract myself by writing, and this is the result. 
> 
> I picture this scene happening before all the other chapters I've posted up until now. And [this is the romper](http://76.my/Malaysia/baby-captain-america-romper-pre-order-peekido-1612-14-F146301_1.jpg) that inspired me to write this small chapter and the one that Tony was wearing. It's just so cute IMO ♥

“Hey!” Steve exclaimed when Tony slapped his forearm, a huge pout on his face. “What’s the matter?” he asked, looking how the pout deepened. 

“No!” Tony said as he took off the hood attached to the romper that Steve had pulled up just seconds ago. 

“Why? You look c–,” Steve stopped before pronouncing the C word. Calling Tony cute never ended up well. 

The problem was that Tony always looked cute. Happy, angry, weepy, cranky, sleepy, no matter in what mood he was, his appearance was undoubtedly adorable, and all Steve wanted to do was to hold him and to cuddle him. There was definitely no better example of the expression ‘you’re so cute, I could eat you up!' than Tony. 

And of course, Tony hated that. 

“No!” Tony kept saying, pulling the front of the romper as if he was trying to take it off.

“Don’t do that Tony, Pepper would be sad if you tear it,” Steve said, taking advantage of the fact that Tony was busy on his attempt to remove the romper to pull up the hood again. Tony took it off immediately, not without glaring at him beforehand. He kicked both legs angrily, and his glare worsened when that movement made him lose his balance and fall flat on his back on the mattress. Steve did his best not to chuckle, but he failed miserably, “that’s what you get for being too grumpy,” he mocked, laying down on his side, his right hand supporting his head upright. 

“Dun wike!” Tony informed as he continued throwing kicks at him, noticing it was easier now that he wasn’t sitting. 

Steve caught one of his chubby feet and rubbed his thumb over its sole, careful not to tickle him. “Why not? It’s great, a lot of kids would like to wear it,” he assured. 

“No ki!” Tony argued, pulling his leg to try to set his foot free. 

“I know that, sweetheart, but you can’t deny you like it. Pepper showed me a picture of you when you were a kid, and you were wearing some Captain America footie pajamas. You were even holding a cushion that looked exactly like my shield,” Steve observed. Tony stopped moving and turned red, an undoubted proof that Steve hadn’t been wrong. 

Without been able to help it, Steve leaned over and pressed a kiss on Tony’s cheek, moving away before Tony could hit him. Steve shouldn’t be kissing him and he knew it, after all, Tony was no baby, he was his adult partner in battle, and you just didn’t go around kissing your comrades. It would have been different if Tony hadn’t kept his adult mind, but he had, and Steve had to take into account that it was highly probable Tony would remember all this once he went back to normal. But, again, Tony was just too cute not to have this demonstrations of affection. 

“Iu!” Tony exclaimed, cleaning his cheek effusively with both hands, his expression of total disgust. 

“Don’t be so dramatic!” Steve protested with a falsely offended voice. Tony ignored him and continued scrubbing his cheek. “OK, if you’re going to be like that,” he said before leaning over once more and began to brush more kisses all over his face, so fast Tony couldn’t keep up with him, his hands and arms moving so clumsily he couldn’t push Steve’s head away. 

“’top!” Tony ordered, turning his face away. 

“Don’t work him up before he goes to bed,” Bucky scolded while he walked into the room, carrying a sippy cup in his hands. 

“Says the one who was throwing him up high in the air yesterday,” Steve reminded him, chuckling when he saw Tony scrubbing his face with his hands and forearms. 

“And I learned my lesson,” Bucky affirmed, and Steve didn’t have the slightest doubt Bucky had indeed. Tony had spitted up on him. Really, who would think of sending a baby flying after having fed him?

“Jeez, you really dressed him with that?” Bucky asked, pointing at the romper Tony was wearing. 

“What’s wrong with it?” Steve question, an eyebrow raised. He could understand why Tony disliked it, but Bucky? 

“It’s like your first uniform, the Star Spangled Man uniform, I thought you hated it. Oh my God, I’d forgotten your first mission had been dancing!” Bucky mocked, a huge grin on his face. 

“I didn’t dance!” Steve argued. 

"Whatever man, you looked ridiculous even if you didn't dance," Bucky commented, holding his arms up in front of his face to prevent his it from being hit with the pillow Steve threw at him. 

"Shut up," Steve murmured. Bucky kept grinning. 

"And you liked it, doll?" Bucky asked Tony while he picked him up and placed him on his lap. 

"No!" Tony replied, pulling the front if the romper again. 

"Yeah, I figured. Your Dada should've dressed you with a romper of my uniform, not his," Bucky commented, stroking his hair. Tony's expression was of pure disbelief, like if he felt betrayed by the fact that Bucky had made such suggestion instead of scolding Steve for insisting on dressing him with such childish attires. Tony slapped Bucky on his thighs. 

“I’m afraid to inform you there are no rompers like those. First, they just manufacture clothing of iconic uniforms, and second, you don’t even have a uniform,” Steve said mockingly, pulling up the hood yet once more. He had to refrain himself from kissing Tony for the umpteenth time when he puffed his cheeks in sign of annoyance. Cute. 

“I do!” Bucky affirmed, helping Tony with the hood.

“Just your military uniform. Who would like to dress a baby in such a romper?” Steve inquired, “Admit it, this romper makes Tony look way cuter,” he assured, and all of a sudden, Tony threw himself on him, hitting him and kicking him as harder as he could. It wasn’t harder enough. 

After giving Tony some seconds to unleashed his anger, Steve scooped him up and sat him on his lap, his fingers brushing the parts of Tony’s body Steve knew were the most ticklish. Soon, Tony was cracking up under Steve’s hands, trying to push them away, but failing to do so since the laughter didn’t let him control the movements of his body as he wanted to. 

“’to!” Tony managed to say between guffaws.

“Only if you promise you’re not mad at your dada,” Steve said.

“I no!” Tony affirmed, squirming effusively. 

Steve tickled him for some seconds more before stopping, holding him against his chest after making sure Tony had caught his breath. Steve sensed how Tony melted into him almost immediately, and wondered if Tony realized if he had been doing that more and more lately. Or if Tony could tell how much Steve liked it when he did that. 

Yes, Tony was his comrade in battle and Steve hoped Thor found Loki soon so Tony could go back to normal, though that didn’t mean he wasn’t enjoying taking care of the little fellow in his arms, nor that he wasn’t going to miss Baby Tony once all this was over.


	9. Chapter 9

“Wime!” Tony demanded as he raised his arms above his head, reaching for the controller Clint had in his hands. But the latter was standing up and Tony was too short right now, so it didn’t matter how much he tried, Tony could barely reach Clint’s thigh.

“Wait for your turn,” Clint said, trying to shake Tony off his leg by shaking it carefully as Tony had stepped on his foot to gain more altitude. 

"Wime!" Tony repeated, grasping the fabric of Clint's pants to avoid falling down. 

"You have other toys there," Clint complained as he pointed at the pile of RC toys that lay on the corner of the living room.

"No! Da!" Tony insisted, his hand still pointing at the Sky Viper drone Clint was playing with. 

"There's another one very similar to this one over there," Clint argued. 

"DA!" Tony stamped his feet for emphasis. 

"Take another one or wait," Clint said at the same time he pushed Tony away with one of his legs. 

"Dada!" Tony called once he realized he wasn't going to get Clint to do what he wanted. He waddled towards the sofa where Steve was sitting down, leaning on it to keep the balance, his small legs were still not strong enough to support him for long periods of time. "Dada!" he called again, slapping him on the knee to attract his attention. 

Steve peeked above the newspaper he was pretending to read. The moment Tony started to argued with Clint, Steve had lost his concentration. "What is it, sweetheart?" Steve asked.

"Da ma pwane!" Tony said, pointing with his chubby index to the drone flying around the room. "Wan!" 

"Why don't you use the other one? That way you can race Clint," Steve suggested. It was too early to start an argument. 

"No! Da!" Tony refused, stamping his feet one more time.

"Then give him some more minutes and I'm sure he's going to give it back," Steve assured, trying to fight back a smile. Tony's pouty face was adorable, so adorable he could hardly refrain himself from pinching his cheeks. 

"No!" Tony denied once more, kicking Steve in the shin. 

"Hey!" Steve complained. He actually hadn't felt anything, but he didn't want to give Tony the idea it was OK to go and hit anyone whenever they didn't do what he wanted them to do. "Don’t hit me, you know perfectly well you should not hit people," Steve scolded, putting the newspaper down on his lap and squinting his eyes at Tony, face serious. 

"Da!" Tony insisted, still pointing at the Sky Viper, totally ignoring Steve’s scolding. 

"Take the other one," Steve proposed once more. 

"No!" Tony kept refused, kicking him for a second time. 

"Stop that!" Steve raised his voice, startling Tony, which only caused him to get more pissed and, instead of stopping, he began to treat Steve’s shin as if it was a soccer ball. “Tony!” he said as he picked him up and sat him down on the couch next to him, his hands kept on his sides to prevent him from moving.

“Ov!” Tony ordered. 

“No, you know it’s not correct to hit people under no circumstance, well, maybe just when we’re in the middle of a battle, but that’s not the point now. Your papa bought you like ten or more remote control toys, I don’t know why you insist on playing with the one Clint has. If you can’t behave correctly and share, then you’re not playing at all.” Steve gave an ultimatum, his face and tone of voice as solemn as he could. 

It took him exactly ten seconds to regret having done that. Tony’s face crumbled in a pout at the same time his eyes filled with tears, threatening to start crying. 

Oh yes, there wasn’t a shade of doubt, Steve was certain Tony had figured it out. He had figured out how to get them to do whatever he wanted. Bucky had told Steve he was being a bit too paranoiac, but Steve disagreed. There was no other way to explain why Tony seemed to cry so easily and over the most trivial things lately when, at the beginning of all this, he just did it when he looked truly distressed and, even then, he seemed to dislike it, like all the other childish things now he needed to do because of his current situation. 

“Oh no, I’m not falling for that this time,” Steve warned when he saw Tony started to sob. He folded his arms over his chest, determined to fulfill his promise. 

It had to be frustrating, Steve perfectly understood that. Not being able to do what he wanted – whether it was because he physically couldn’t or because he wasn’t allowed to – had to be very exasperating for Tony, especially considering that adult Tony always did as he pleased. It was almost impossible to talk Tony out of doing something when he had already decided to do it. 

But what if Thor never found Loki and the only way Tony could go back to being an adult was growing up for a second time? Steve wished that didn’t happen, even though he wouldn’t mind looking after him and becoming a surrogate father to him along with Bucky, he was afraid Tony would loathe that. But if it did happen, Steve didn’t want Tony to become a spoiled child. Bucky had told him that wouldn’t be possible since Tony had kept his adult mind, but there had been some small things that had driven Steve to believe the baby side in him was taking control of Tony more and more as time went by. 

“Daa-da,” Tony sobbed, pointing at the Sky Viper with trembling hands. 

“Get the other one,” Steve repeated, barely succeeding at ignoring the urge to unfold his arms and embrace him. Tony’s crying sounded so brokenhearted it easily got on his nerves, making it extremely difficult to remember it was all fake, making him want to do whatever it was necessary to have him smiling again. But he wouldn’t, he shouldn’t, for Tony’s own good. What kind of message would Steve be sending him if he succumbed whenever Tony threw a tantrum? 

But then Tony crawled closer and stood up next to him, hands clutched his sleeve to avoid falling down, his face red and streaked with tears as he gasped from crying so hard, tugging at his t-shirt demanding attention. Steve knew it was a matter of seconds before he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Da-da-dada,” Tony managed to say between guffaws, sounding so pitiful Steve just knew he was a lost cause. 

“Come here, you little drama queen,” Steve said fondly, pulling him into a hug. A hug that lasted not more than half a minute, since Tony pushed himself from him so he could point at Clint.

“Wime,” Tony demanded. Steve sighed heavily. 

“Just give it to him Clint,” Steve said.

“But there’s another one, why doesn’t he take that one?” Clint complained, looking at him in a way Steve knew how shocked he was Steve was letting Tony get away with such behavior. 

"I know, but he wants the one you have. Just humor me, please," Steve added when Clint's glare deepened. 

Reluctantly, Clint walked towards them and handed the controller to him, mumbling something Steve couldn't quite decipher, too lost and focused on Tony's smile when his hands held the transmitter. So much for not wanting Tony to be spoiled. Who was Steve trying to fool? If Tony stayed like this, he was going to become the most spoiled brat in the planet. Steve would never be able to deny him anything. 

"Not close to the door, Tony." Steve ordered when the Sky Viper flew near the entrance. That thing had crashed countless times into the head or chest of any unlucky person who decided to walk into the room when Tony was playing with it. Steve couldn’t tell if Tony did that on purpose. 

"You're spoiling him," Clint accused as he flopped down onto the sofa, next to him. The controller of another RC toy already in his hands. 

Steve said nothing, unable to refute that. Clint was more than right. Though not wanting Tony to cry wasn't enough reason to do grant him anything, no matter how good it felt that warm feeling that spread inside of him whenever Tony smiled.

"You're gonna regret it if he stays like that and you had a bratty teenager to deal with in some years," Clint voiced his fears. 

"I hope that doesn't happen," Steve said, brushing a kiss on the top of Tony's head. 

"Wime!" Tony demanded all of a sudden while he leaned over Clint, his hand reaching for the transmitter Clint was using to control a red race car. 

"What? No! you didn't want to play with this, you wanted to play with the plane and now you have it," Clint stated, moving the remote far from Tony's hands. 

"Wime!" Tony insisted. 

"No! You just want what I have, you don't even care what toy it is!" Clint remarked.

"Dada!" Tony called him, pulling the front of his t-shirt. 

Steve could totally see that what Clint had said was true, and he would have definitely asked Tony to cut it out if his eyes hadn't started to water once more. Looking at Clint apologetically, he indicating him without words he needed to hand the remote the Tony. 

Steve had always imagined himself being a loving but strict parent, since, according to him, both love and discipline were indispensable to make easier the road to adulthood and to the outside world, particularly if he wanted his kid to become an upstanding man. When he heard any parent assuring that saying no to a child was one of the most difficult things to do, Steve thought they were being just a bit lazy, though Tony was surely making him realize how truthful those statements were. 

Saying no to a child when necessary was something Steve didn’t think it was as hard as many parents claimed it was. Tony was definitely proving him wrong.

\- - - -

"Go!" Tony demanded, pushing his leg with his small chubby hands.

“Why?” Bucky asked, looking stunned. 

"Tony," Bruce said with a scolding tone, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him closer, afraid Tony would fall off his lap. 

“Go!” Tony repeated as he stretched out his legs, his intention of pushing him still there.

“But why? I wanna listen to the story too,” Bucky complained.

“No!”

“Why not?” Bucky insisted, taking Tony’s feet in his hands to refrain him from kicking him. 

“No!” 

Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion as he looked up at Bruce, hoping to be provided with an explanation of Tony’s behavior, but Bruce just shrugged, being as clueless as he was. “Sorry doll, but I’m staying,” Bucky informed after some minutes.

“No!” Tony disliked the idea. 

“Yes,” Bucky reaffirmed. Bruce had no problems with hanging out with Tony, he had even expressed he liked it – of course Bruce liked it, Tony tended to behave around him like the perfect little angel he seemed to be due to his current appearance, and he mostly saved his tantrums to Steve and Bucky – but Bruce had also conveyed he didn’t like to be left alone with him, the fear of transforming into The Hulk while Tony was in such a vulnerable state was always there. 

“No! Go!” Tony maintained, his face crumbling into a pout that told Bucky he wanted to start crying – as he did lately when he didn't obtain what he wanted – though he was clearly refraining from doing so due to Bruce's presence. 

"Tony, buddy, he can stay if he wants to," Bruce said while he caressed Tony's tummy in an attempt to ease his distress. 

"No!" Tony kept refusing, a sob escaping from his throat surely in spite of himself. 

Bucky sighed resignedly. This thing of Tony wanting to get his way all the time was getting out of hand. Both Steve and he were more than willing to do anything to keep Tony content, but Bucky was afraid Tony might be taking advantage. That wasn’t something good, especially if Steve’s theory turned out to be true and Tony’s only chance to be an adult again was growing up for a second time. 

“Oh, if you don’t let Bucky stay, I won’t read to you,” Bruce warned. Bucky could see how Tony’s expression change from a pout, to disappointment, to anger right away. And of course, Tony was directing his glare to him, not Bruce, no matter who had made the threat. 

“Never mind, actually, I have something to do,” Bucky informed as he stood up. Regardless of how much he tried, Bucky was never going to be able to stand a crying Tony, and, even if he knew that was going to be worse in the long run, he would always try to avoid upsetting him. 

“But,” Bruce said, looking up at him, his face showing the discomfort he felt for being left alone with Tony. Yes, Bruce had volunteered to read Tony before bed since it seemed to help him keep the nightmares at bay, but either Steve or Bucky usually stayed around just in case. 

“Sorry, but if I keep stalling it, I’ll never get around to it,” Bucky excused himself, winking at him and insinuating with a movement of one of his index fingers that he would be around. 

An inner voice told Bucky he should have stayed there, but then he heard Tony babbling happily when Bruce informed him he was going to start reading, and Bucky couldn’t help ignoring that voice.

\- - - -

“Steve, would you mind getting your son away from me?” Natasha asked, voice annoyed. Steve wondered when someone besides Clint started to refer Tony as his son.

“Tony, come back here,” Steve called, getting his eyes off the screen and focusing them on Tony. 

“No!” Tony refused, trying to climb on the sofa close to where Natasha and Clint were sitting, but it was too high for him.

“You’re going to fall down, and I’m not picking you up,” Natasha informed him, moving her leg a bit to block Tony’s way. Obviously, Tony didn’t like that, and he pushed her leg right away, trying to move it out of his way. “You see,” she said when Tony fell on his diapered butt, having lost his balance since Natasha’s leg didn’t yield.

Steve took a deep breath. This was the third time he had to stand up to go for Tony. 

“Wime,” Tony demanded, pointing at the remote control of the TV Natasha had in her hand. 

“No, you’re going to change the channel, I’m trying to watch the movie,” Natasha stated as she squinted at Tony, “for being someone so supportive of this movie-night thing, you sure are making it very difficult to pay attention to it,” she complained. 

“Come here, lil’ man,” Steve said, leaning forward to pick Tony up. As the last two times, Tony began squirming hard immediately. “Stop it, I’m not letting you go this time,” Steve warned with a determined tone of voice. 

“Cha!” Tony writhed in such a way that it seemed Steve’s touch was hurting him somehow. 

“I told you nobody’s changing the channel, so quit it,” Natasha repeated, “this movie was in the list of the must-watch movies you made for us, so I don’t know why you’re making such a fuss.” 

“No!” Tony denied, getting purchase against Steve’s thighs to try to get away from him. 

“Is it because it’s an animated movie? Because the fact that it’s animated doesn’t mean that is for kids, you know,” Clint commented. Steve admitted that was a valid point, even if Tony was doing more and more childish things with every passing day, Steve knew it still was a predicament for him.

Though, on this occasion the movie played had nothing to do with Tony’s behavior. Natasha could have chosen any other movie less childish and Steve was certain Tony would have fussed about it anyway. 

Pepper had come by a couple of days ago, and while she was showing them all the new outfits and toys she had bought for Tony – which Tony seemed to hate judging by his expression and reluctance to try on or play with anything – she had commented that people started to wonder where he was, as it wasn’t that common for Tony or Iron Man to drop out of sight for that long, he always gave people something to talk about. 

That had unquestionably made Tony feel anxious, and since that day, Steve and Bucky had had to keep Tony as far as possible from any form of communication with the outside world, not wanting this situation to be worse for him than it already was. If Tony was already too mortified because the team was witnessing all this – he would surely avoid all of them for a long time after he went back to normal – they didn’t want to know how Tony would react if he discovered the whole world knew about what had happened too. 

And yes, Pepper had said there were already some speculations of why Tony hadn’t made the headline recently, but none of them were close to the real version. So, Tony might not find out anything even if he watched the news or surfed on the Internet, but both Steve and Bucky agreed they could never be too careful on this particular issue. 

“Tony!” Steve scolded when Tony opened his mouth and moved closer to his arm, a clear attempt to bite him, “stop this nonsense.”

"No!" Tony insisted. His attempts to set himself free continued, and Steve was barely able to keep him in place, afraid he might hurt Tony just for being trying to refrain him from falling off his lap. 

Five minutes later Steve gave up and Tony was once again back on the floor, how two super soldiers always seemed to be defeated by an infant went beyond Steve’s understanding. Two more minutes, and Tony was already in front of Natasha tugging at her pants and babbling demands. 

"He's not gonna leave you alone, you know," Clint affirmed mockingly. Natasha hit him on the face with a cushion. "Hey! What was that for?" he complained, getting just a shrug as an answer. 

"It's not like I can hit the dwarf here," she said, and Tony didn't hesitate to kick her in the shin right away. Tony disliked childish things as much as nicknames, and lately, he even frowned at any endearments Steve and Bucky said. 

"Tony!" Steve scolded, and he was about to grab his wrist to pull him closer, when Natasha handed Tony the remote. Steve furrowed his brow in confusion. She had been preventing Tony from going near the remote for more than half an hour, and now she was handing it herself just like that?

"Change the channel, turn the TV off, play a documentary about bees, I don’t care anymore,” Natasha exclaimed, leaning against the back of the sofa and crossing her arms over her chest.

“A documentary?” Clint whined, a cushion crashed into his face again. “What now? You don’t like documentaries either!” he affirmed, hitting Natasha back this time. 

Neither Tony nor Steve could have cared less about Natasha and Clint’s argument, Tony was too distracted by the remote in his hands he had finally gotten by misbehaving yet once more, and Steve was waiting for him to choose one of the news channels he wasn’t supposed to watch to make a move. It didn’t take long for Tony to do exactly what Steve had thought. 

“Oh no, young man, you know perfectly well your Dada and I don’t want you to watch the news,” Steve announced as he stood up and scooped Tony up, taking the control remote away from him quickly before Tony could have time to move it away. 

Tony’s reaction was more than expected by Steve. He winced when Tony’s wails reached his ears, and wonder how bad it was that he was getting too used to his ear-piercing crying. 

 

 

“What the hell happened here?” Bucky asked when he stepped into de living room. 

“Tony.” That was all Steve needed to say. Bucky sighed deeply, and he focused his eyes towards the hall that leaded to Tony’s nursery. His wails could be heard clearly even if the door was closed. 

“What the hell happened here?” Bucky asked as soon as he stepped into the living room, surely referring to the mess that was surrounding him. It seemed like a tornado had passed in the living room, and the thing that stood up the most was undoubtedly the visibly broken TV.

After it had been obvious Tony wasn’t going to stop crying any time soon, Steve had decided to go back to his floor so they didn’t disturb anyone else. Steve and Bucky might be getting used to Tony’s tantrums, but everybody else wasn’t, and hearing a baby cry non-stop could really get on anyone’s nerves. I had been worse, though. Tony started squirming as soon as Steve stepped out of the elevator, giving Steve no other choice than putting him down on the floor. After kicking him in the shin, Tony had waddled towards the couch, and Steve wondered why Bucky hadn’t hidden the remote control of the TV when Tony’s hands had already grabbed it. 

Then, everything had gone downhill. Tony had refused to let go of the remote and he hadn’t liked in the slightest when Steve asked JARVIS to block all the news channels. Before Steve could do something about it, Tony had already thrown the remote towards the TV, not breaking it per se, but he had managed to crack it.

“What didn’t you let him do?” Bucky question, knowing perfectly well Tony’s recent outburst were caused for not being allowed to do something. 

“Watch the news,” Steve answered, sounding exhausted. 

“Do you want me to deal with him?” Bucky offered. Steve must look worse than he had thought. 

“If you don’t mind.”

Steve grunted once Bucky was out of sight. He was going to be a terrible father. And so was Bucky, because in no more than twenty minutes, Tony was watching the news on a tablet Steve was sure it belonged to Bucky.

\- - - -

“What are you doing here?” Steve questioned. After looking for Bucky and Tony all over the Tower, he found them in the last place he expected them to be: the workshop.

“What do you think?” Bucky replied from the couch, slouched in a way Steve could tell he had been sitting there for quite some time and was now bored out of his mind. “Save the speech,” he begged when Steve saw him disapprovingly.

“I wasn’t going to say anything,” Steve lied, sitting down next to him, laying his eyes on Tony’s small figure. He was cross-ledged sat on the table he usually used to work, several holograms displayed in front of him. “He’s not allowed to come down here, you know,” he commented, Bucky glared at him.

“I dare you to take him out of here,” Bucky challenged.

Steve took a deep breath. He knew perfectly well how Tony would react if he tried doing such a thing. “We can’t keep letting him do whatever he wants just because he starts shedding crocodile tears,” he said with no intention of scolding Bucky. Who knew how many times Steve had given in too just because he couldn’t stand seeing Tony crying either, deceitfully or not.

“And what do you suggest doing?” Bucky wanted to know. They had tried reasoning with him, bribing him, scolding him, and nothing had worked so far. Once Tony’s wails began, the only way they would stop was allowing him to do or giving him what he wanted. 

“I don’t know,” Steve admitted, “I’ll guess we’ll just have to let him cry until he gets tired and stops,” he suggested. 

“Yes, because that’s worked before,” Bucky said. No matter how much they repeated to themselves that everything was just an act, Tony managed to bawl in such a heartbreaking way that they couldn’t ignore him, they felt the need to do something about it. 

“Well, we gotta learn to do it, this can’t continue,” Steve stated, “if something bad happens to him just because we don’t know how to say no, we’ll feel worse.” There was nothing Bucky could refute. 

“Go ahead,” Bucky prompted, raising both arms and pointing his hands towards Tony. 

Steve looked at Bucky, then at Tony, and then at Bucky once more. Maybe he won’t react so badly if we give him more time to do whatever he’s doing,” he suggested. Bucky rolled his eyes. 

 

 

“Do you think we should go and get him?” Bucky whispered, his eyes fixed on the corner of the living room, where Tony was curled into a small ball. 

“No, not yet,” Steve declined, afraid Tony might lose his temper again if he saw them getting closer. 

“He still needs to get his diaper changed, he’s going to get a rash,” Bucky observed. They had tried to change it, but Tony hadn't even let them get close to him.

“He’ll come around when he’s ready,” Steve assured, not blaming Bucky for wanting to go and comfort Tony. He was dying to do the same, but he knew better than to do something that would only upset Tony more. 

Trying to distract his mind a little, Steve looked around the room and sighed heavily. Everything was a mess. There were toys scattered all over the room and the ones that could be broken certainly were; everything that had been on furniture short enough for Tony to reach it, was laying along with the toys; a few chairs had been knocked over and even the crack on the TV screen got bigger. When Steve had decided to take Tony upstairs, he was aware of the reaction Tony would have. Though this had been too much. Tony had thrown a hell of a tantrum. 

“We should’ve let him stay in his workshop,” Bucky commented. 

“To give him a chance to get hurt for real this time?” Steve replied, sounding angry. Bucky’s mouth twisted. 

Tony had fallen off the table. Everything had happened so fast that neither Bucky nor Steve could do anything about it, and yet, Steve had seen everything happened in such slow motion he couldn’t stop beating himself for not having done anything to prevent it. Thankfully, Tony hadn’t gotten hurt seriously – JARVIS had confirmed that and they had already had Bruce give him a checkup just in case – perhaps because he had landed on a stool first before reaching the floor, and, since he somehow managed to fall on his butt, the diaper had surely lessened the impact. That hadn’t refrained him from crying loudly though, Tony had gotten scared as much as they had. 

It was horrible. 

And why had Tony fallen? Because of his eternal stubbornness, of course! Leave it to him to try to sketch some new designs for his suit now that his movements weren’t too coordinate. His traces refused to be straight and, eventually, frustration took over him making him lose it. He began cursing and, suddenly, he had stood up and kicked the holograms in front of him – which was pointless, but his mind seemed to cloud whenever he was having a tantrum – until he slipped almost immediately. 

So, after they had managed to calm Tony down, Steve had made the decision to take him out of the workshop. That had been when the worst tantrum ever thrown had started, and even if at the beginning Steve and Bucky had tried to make Tony cool off, they opted to ignore him, determined not to let him get his way anymore, not when the thing that he wanted could be harmful for him. 

Steve got it, he truly did. All this had to be extremely frustrating to Tony, and it physically hurt Steve the fact that he couldn’t do anything about it. He would gladly take Tony’s place if he could, but unfortunately, that wasn’t possible. The only thing Steve and Bucky could do was looking after him and make sure nothing happen to him, even if that meant having to put up with such bad behavior. 

By the time Tony accepted they weren’t going to give in this time, it was already dark outside. 

“Tony, honey, come here,” Bucky called, unable to refrain himself anymore. Tony shook his head weakly, and hugged his legs tighter. “Even if we’re not real parents, we’re terrible parents, aren’t we?” he commented, slouching on the sofa. 

“I don’t know,” Steve said, voice sad, “I just know that I’d never forgive myself if something happens to him while we’re supposed to be in charge of him, and if by achieving that we cause reactions like these, well, I don’t care. I don’t know if that makes me a bad parent.”

After what felt like an eternity, Steve saw Tony standing up very slowly. He glanced at Bucky briefly and shook his head slightly, insinuating him they shouldn’t do anything until they knew what Tony’s intention was. When Tony failed to stay upright Steve hesitated whether he should go and help him or not, but soon Tony was crawling on all fours towards them.

“Do you think he wants to keep fighting?” Bucky murmured.

“I hope not,” Steve wished. 

Tony reached them after several minutes, he hadn’t mastered the act of crawling – perhaps because he refused to do it, preferring to walk even if he fell down frequently – and the sobs that were still escaping from his throat delayed him too. Both Steve and Bucky followed every of his movements with their eyes, and chose to do nothing when Tony sat down on the floor in front of them. Shyly, he raised his head and looked away when their eyes met. After an evident internal struggle, Tony grabbed both their pants and pull them in order to get the purchase needed to stand up. 

“Dada,” Tony said with a tiny voice, his hands holding his knee to keep the balance. Steve looked at him but made no attempt to pick him up. Countless were the times Tony had fooled them making them think he had already calmed down and when they scooped them, the tantrum restarted. “Dada,” he insisted, tears welling up in his eyes. “Da-dada,” he stuttered, two big tears rolling down his cheeks as his sobs intensified once more, hands clutching the fabric of his slacks. 

And that’s when Steve couldn’t resist anymore and leaned down to pick Tony up and held him against his chest. The only good thing about having witnessed many of his tantrums was that he could easily differentiate real from fake crying. 

“It’s OK Tony, it’s OK,” Steve soothed when Tony hugged his neck tightly, his body trembling due to the spams caused by the sobs. 

“So-so… sowy,” Tony managed to say.

“We’re not mad at you, doll,” Bucky informed, getting closer so he could kiss the top of Tony’s head. “We were just worried,” he added, smiling when Tony’s hand clutched his sleeve, stopping him from moving away. 

Steve and Bucky might have to face more tantrums like the one they just did until Tony finally understood there were certain things they just couldn’t let him do, and it would be frustrating and tiring, but Steve couldn’t deny that moments like these made it all worth it. Because, even if they hoped Thor came back as soon as possible to fix the mess his brother had caused, none of them could deny they would miss the little monster under their charge.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this turned out to be longer that I expected, and to be honest, I just didn’t seem to get around to finishing it. I guess I lost a bit of inspiration half way through, and then I got distracted watching Naruto and Shingeki no Kyojin, which I had been wanting to watch since last year and I just kept stalling it. 
> 
> Anyway, I hope it had turned out well at the end. I didn't mean this to be dramatic or anything, I was trying to make a chapter where Tony realizes he can really get away with eveything just by crying, like learning to make use of what he currently has, as well as pointing out the fact that he starts to do more childish things than before. Let me know what you think. 
> 
> I really didn’t check for errors, so, if you see one, please, let me know.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Today was one of those days where life is just to much to bear, and you job just makes you unhappy, and you don't know what the hell you're doing with your life, and you regret many decisions you've made, and you just wonder what's the point of everything. And the only thing that relaxes me a little is writing. so that's what I did.

Working in his workshop for as long as he wished, eating whenever and whatever he felt like to, entertaining himself with whichever gadget he wanted, sleeping on a bed which wasn’t surrounded by bars that prevented him from getting out of it, walking for more than a couple of steps without losing balance and falling down, saying long sentences without sounding like he was babbling, being able to tell when he needed to use the toilet; there were plenty of things that Tony missed from being an adult, but the thing he missed the most was undoubtedly his privacy, having moments to himself. 

It was true that Tony hadn’t lived by himself for quite a long time now, though the Tower was a huge place and he didn’t necessarily ran into everyone all the time. He did hang out with the others every now and then, but Tony usually spent most of his time in his workshop with JARVIS being the only one that kept him company. 

All that had drastically changed when Loki had had the idiotic idea of turning him back into an infant. From one day to the next, Tony found himself being under observation every damn minute, and even if that had been kind of indispensable due to his current inability to fend for himself, it was getting very annoying. Either Steve or Bucky were always there, telling Tony what to do or not to do, making all the decisions for him, making sure he was alright even if Tony hadn’t been doing anything that could harm him in any way, checking his stupid diaper an embarrassing number of times, trying to entertain him when the only thing Tony wanted was to be left alone. 

And if it occurred to Tony to hide somewhere just to have some minutes with his own thoughts, Steve and Bucky would look for him like crazy. Seriously, where on earth could Tony possibly go? Besides the fact that they had had JARVIS maintain all the doors closed so Tony could go out just under the supervision of an adult, there was also Tony’s reluctance to go outside, the hell he was going to facilitate the information to those damned reporters who were already wondering what had happened to him.

So, when Bucky entered the nursery in a rush while Steve was cleaning the most recent evidence that showed Tony also lacked control over his bowel movements, announcing that both of them were required for a mission, Tony couldn’t have been happier. If they had a mission, he would undoubtedly have to stay behind. Putting on his suit to go on a mission was another thing Tony missed doing, however, under these circumstances, staying home sounded good. He would finally get the change to spend some time alone. 

“What? But Fury knows we’re in charge of Tony, we can’t go on missions now,” Steve argued, taking Tony’s ankles to lift him a little and slip a fresh diaper under his rear. Tony grunted, he hated having messy diapers changed. “Shhh, it’s OK sweetheart, I’m almost done,” he soothed. 

“That’s what I told Coulson, but according to him, we’re the only ones who can do this one,” Bucky reported as he approached the dresser and grabbed a piece of clothing from one of the drawers, handing it to Steve. A sailor romper? Really? Tony was so going to get even with Pepper for buying him such outfits! Why didn’t she get him plain jeans and t-shirts? She did know he had kept his adult mind! 

“No!” Tony complained when Steve pulled him into a sitting position and began to manipulate him into the romper.

“I’m sorry, sweetpea, I know you don’t like it, but all the outfits are pretty much the same. Unless you wanna go around just wearing a diaper, this one will have to do,” Steve apologized, snapping the romper shut over the diaper. Tony slapped him on the back of the hand to let Steve knew about his displeasure. Steve brushed a kiss on his cheek which Tony wiped off immediately. “We can’t go. We can't both go,” Steve reiterated, “maybe just one of us, but still.” 

"It has to be both of us," Bucky informed, "believe me, I already had this conversation with Coulson. I told him we just couldn’t, but he insisted, he says it’s important.” Bucky might have been trying to persuade Steve to go, though his tone of voice implied he wasn’t any happier than Steve about this situation. 

"But Tony? We can't leave him," Yes, they could! "We haven't left him since all this started, what if our absence upsets him?" What?! Of course it wouldn't! He wasn't a real baby, for Fuck's sake! Did they seriously think he was going to cry or something like that just because they left? 

"Go," Tony said. 

"What?" Steve asked. 

"Go!" Tony repeated. If there was a tiny possibility he could have some space, Tony was going to do everything he could to make that happened. 

"Are you really OK with us leaving, baby? Wouldn’t you prefer for one of us to stay with you?" Steve asked, his expression showing a bit of disappointment. Was he expecting Tony to say _yes_ to that question? No way!

"No, go!" Tony said. Steve pursed his lips, thoughtful. 

"Well, I guess if you have no problem with us going, it’s OK then," Steve conceded sounding slightly unsure, his eyes fixed on Tony's, as if he was trying to find any indication that Tony was lying. Tony wasn't, he even hid the fact he was excited because of his departure, afraid that deterred them. "How long will it take us?" Steve questioned. 

"Coulson promised we'll be back at the end of the day, tops," Bucky replied. 

"OK... OK, let's go, the sooner we leave, the sooner we'll come back," Steve said, still hesitant. 

Yes! Finally! 

"Go and get changed," Bucky ordered, "Clint and Bruce already agreed to look after Tony while we're gone."

Ye–! Wait, what?

\- - - -

Stupid. Tony felt extremely stupid. How could he have been so naïve and think the departure of Steve and Bucky meant he was going to be left alone? Of course they weren’t going to leave him without supervision! It was embarrassingly obvious! So, the fact of having gotten a nanny – or two – didn’t upset Tony as much as the fact of having believed he would have none. Stupid, indeed.

“I still think one of us should stay,” Steve declared, squatting down in front of the playpen. “He looks mad.” 

“He always gets mad when we put him down in the playpen,” Bucky asserted, standing next to Steve. Yes, Tony disliked the playpen, but the reason of his anger wasn’t caused by it, the _nannies_ were the cause.

“Are you sure you’re alright with this, pookie?” Steve asked him, stretching his arm so he could caress his stomach. 

Tony pushed the hand away, “go!” 

Why did they insist on asking him that question? Couldn’t they see that what he wanted was for them to leave already? Tony might not like the idea of being babysat, but he had to admit that, of all the people that could have been asked to keep an eye on him, Clint and Bruce were the best option for him. It would be easy to manipulate, and who knew, Tony might have to chance to drive them away so he could have some time for his own. 

Something that would never happen if Steve and Bucky never left.

“You see? He’s gonna be fine,” Bucky affirmed, mimicking Steve so he could be closer to Tony’s eye level. Tony wondered if Bucky didn’t realize he looked as disgruntled as Steve. “You’re a big boy, you’re gonna be fine without your Dada and your Papa, aren’t you?” he said, and Tony had to throw a stuffed animal to the face. 

That recent habit of theirs of assuming Tony would react to certain situations as a normal baby would was getting annoying. Yes, he threw tantrums, he cried if he had the feeling he was going to have a nightmare and Steve and Bucky didn’t let him sleep with them, and he sucked on a pacifier whenever he was too anxious, but that didn’t mean Tony was going to have a childish reaction to everything. 

“I get the feeling he even wants us to leave,” Steve commented.

 _No way, Sherlock!_ Tony thought to himself.

“Let’s go,” Bucky ordered, grabbing Steve by the arm to make him stand up and walk towards the elevator with him.

“Please, don’t upset him unnecessarily,” Steve asked when he walked by Clint. 

“I never do! He’s just too spoiled,” Clint argued, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Bruce,” Steve begged. 

“Don’t worry, I’ll keep an eye on both of them,” Bruce promised from the armchair. Clint threw a cushion at him. 

“See you at night, doll, please behave!” Bucky pleaded before the doors of the elevator closed. 

“So, what do you feel like doing?” Clint asked him as he leaned over the playpen. Tony threw another stuffed animal to his face. 

Bruce chuckled, “I guess he wants to throw things,” he commented. 

“I can do that too,” Clint stated, picking up the plushie Tony just hurled. 

“Don’t even think about it,” Bruce warned. Suddenly, he materialized behind Clint and took away the stuffed animal from his hand, making him jump.

“Jesus! Don’t do that!” Clint whined.

“Remember Steve doesn’t want you to unsettle Tony,” Bruce reminded as he scooped Tony up. 

“He started it,” Clint mumbled. 

“He’s a baby, you’re not,” Bruce declared. Tony blew a raspberry at Clint, earning a glare from the latter. To be honest, Tony didn’t like when people referred to him as a baby, but if that was an excuse to get away with something, he didn’t mind. “So, what do you want to do?” Bruce echoed Clint’s question as he sat down on the sofa, placing him on his lap. 

_I want you to go and leave me alone_. That was what Tony would have liked to say, but, besides the fact that his speech would sound like babbles and they weren’t as good at understanding him as Steve and Bucky were, the possibilities Clint and Bruce left would decrease if he said such a thing. 

“I guess he doesn’t know either,” Clint commented when he saw Tony shrugging. The only thing his brain could focus on now was how to make them go away. 

“I’d suggest watching TV, but it doesn’t work. Mister Grumpypants here broke it,” Clint said as he sat down next to them and poked Tony’s cheek. 

“No!” Tony complained, slapping Clint’s hand. Why the hell did Clint poke him or pinch his cheeks whenever he had the opportunity? 

“Seriously, if you upset him, you’ll deal with him,” Bruce threatened. 

“Yeah, yeah,” Clint blew him off. “Anyway, what do you think the mission Steve and Bucky went was about?” he questioned, poking Tony’s stomach now. What the hell was wrong with him? When Tony turned back into an adult, he will poke him all the time so he realized how annoying that was. 

“I don’t know, it was classified.”

“Exactly. What kind of classified mission needs two super soldiers? I mean, Natasha and I are usually sent to classified missions, and they usually are pretty boring, you know, retrieving information and stuff like that,” Clint confided. 

“Well, they might be required to get some information, but they might have to fight to get it, who knows,” Bruce said, moving Tony a bit farther from Clint’s reach. 

“Do you imagine if something happens to them? We’ll be in charge of this muff monkey,” Clint realized, “I tell you in advance, I’m not changing diapers!” he hurried to say. Tony threw a kick at him. 

“Don’t say that! Nothing’s gonna happen to them,” Bruce assured, and Tony couldn’t have agreed more. 

Steve and Bucky were incredibly strong, that was why they were sent to dangerous and important missions, because the chances for them to win were extremely high. Yes, it wasn’t like the serum had made them immortal, they did bleed, they did feel pain, they could get broken bones, they could die…

They _could_ die. What if this was the time Steve and Bucky faced an enemy much stronger than them? What if what Clint just said turned out to be true? What if Steve and Bucky didn’t come back from their mission? What if their lives were taken? Tony had been so focused on wanting them to leave that he hadn't considered the possibility of them never returning. 

What was he going to do if they didn't come back? Would he really have to be under Bruce and Clint's supervision? That would suck. Bruce was OK, he was cool, he was nice enough to pretent he understood him even if he didn't, he never made fun of him and he improved all the toys Bucky and Pepper bought for him so they weren't so boring. Clint, on the other hand, was obnoxious, and Tony didn't know if he was going to be able to put up with him on a regular basis. Or maybe Natasha would be the one who looked after him, and she would kill him the first time he threw a tantrum. 

No, Tony didn't want to change caregivers, Steve and Bucky were more than alright. They were always keeping an eye on him making sure he was fine, trying to find ways to entertain him even if that didn't always work, comforting him when necessary and scolding him when Tony deserved it. Tony loved how they stayed awake with him if he woke up in the middle of the night and couldn't get back to sleep, telling him stories about their youth. How both of them gave him small pieces of cookies or any other snack they had behind each other backs whenever Tony hadn't refused to eat that damn baby food, rebuking each other for giving Tony something he wasn’t supposed to eat. How both seemed to truly care about him.

In short, there were a lot of things Steve and Bucky did that exasperated Tony greatly, though there were some others that made him wonder if that was how having a loving father was like. And now he was going to lose that, and he would have to deal with the fact that he had been very ungrateful to them even if they were just trying to do what was best for him. 

His breathing hitched all of a sudden as his vision blurred, anxiety taking over him just by the thought of not seeing his dada and papa ever again.

“Tony? Are you OK?” Bruce asked him, leaning over to take a better look of his face, “what’s the matter? What did you do to him?” he said the latter to Clint.

“What? I didn’t do anything, I swear!” Clint hurried to say, “he started crying out of the blue!” 

“Buddy, tell me what this horrible archer did to you?” Bruce demanded, tightening his grip on him. 

“I told you I didn’t do anything to him!” Clint insisted. 

“I-I w-wan-d-da.” That was the only thing Tony could articulate, some shuddering sobs preventing him from express himself a bit better. 

“Tony, champ, try to speak clearly, I can’t understand you,” Bruce admitted.

“D-da-dada, p-pa-pap-papa,” Tony forced himself to say, before letting himself cry freely. 

\- - - -

“Do you think we should call them?” Clint questioned, voiced worried. 

“You know we don’t carry our cell phones during missions,” Bruce observed without stopping bouncing Tony. 

“I could call Phil,” Clint offered. 

“Do you really think they’re going to be sent back just because you called? Up until now they hadn’t been summoned because of the circumstances,” Bruce commented, and Tony knew he was referring to him, “but I think this time they were really needed, otherwise Fury wouldn’t have asked them to go. And if you managed to get ahold of them by any chance, you’ll just make them worried and they won’t be able to concentrate,” he argued, making Tony feel worse unintentionally. 

If Tony was already considering it before, there wasn’t a shade of doubt now: He would have to leave town, cast off his identity and start off somewhere new once all this was over. Not being able to talk correctly, not controlling his bladder, not having enough strength to walk properly, not being able to chew most of the solid food or drink from a glass, those were things Tony would surely feel embarrassed by once he went back to being an adult. Though those were things he really didn’t have a say on, his body was of a baby’s now, and that came with all its perks – well, more like disadvantages.

However, crying for more than an hour because he wanted Steve and Bucky to come back was something he definitely had a say on since he had kept his adult mind. It couldn’t be blamed on his baby body, so that was causing him a whole new level of embarrassment he didn’t know he would be able to deal with later. 

The problem was that, no matter how much Tony had tried, he just couldn’t stop the tears. He knew he was overreacting, he knew the possibilities of Steve and Bucky not returning were very low, even nonexistent, both of them were good at what they did, they had faced hundreds of worse battles (Tony knew this wasn’t a dangerous battle since the whole Avengers team hadn’t been summoned) and they had won, so why should this time be any different? 

Nevertheless, his mind refused to believe that, and when he had managed to calm down a little, his brain reminded him of the nonexistent chances of never seeing them again, and the sobs intensified one more time. Not even the pacifier that Clint had offered him could help him to decrease the anxiety he was experiencing. 

“Well, we gotta do something, he’s gonna be crying until they come back if we don’t,” Clint warned. “I bet he didn’t even have breakfast, he might be hungry. Maybe a full stomach would help him to calm down,” he proposed. 

“Bucky told me there was some formula ready to drink on the counter, we just need to heat it up,” Bruce informed, still pacing. If the bouncing hadn’t helped, that didn’t either. “It’s OK Tony, it’s OK, your Dada and Papa would be back soon,” he lied as he pressed a kiss on the top of Tony’s head. Some more sobs escaped from Tony’s throat. Dada and Papa wouldn’t be back for several hours.

“Here you have,” Clint said after a few minutes, handing Bruce the bottle. 

“Did you check if it’s not too hot?” Bruce asked, and Tony startled a bit when Bruce yelled, “Not like that!” 

“How am I’m supposed to know if it’s too hot?” Clint whined, sounding distressed. Tony could picture him trying to drink some milk from the bottle itself, and he would have laughed if he hadn’t been so busy crying. 

“Sprinkle some drops on the inside of your wrist!” 

“I didn’t know that! I’ve never babysat a baby!” Clint defended himself. 

“That’s common knowledge!” Bruce argued. 

After Bruce muttered something under his breath, Tony felt him sitting down and rearranging him in a way he ended up being cradled in his arms. Then, a nipple was pressed against his lips, which Tony thought about refusing, but Clint had been right, he was starving. So, Tony opened his mouth and began sucking slowly as the sobs reduced considerably, his small hands stubbornly reaching for the bottle even if Bruce was already holding it for him. 

Tony heard both Clint and Bruce sigh in relief, and Tony couldn’t deny he felt a bit relieved too. He had no intention of distressing them, this wasn’t their fault. A shame that relief didn’t last long, because Tony looked up at Bruce while he kept drinking, and even if there was certain affection in Bruce’s eyes, his dada and papa’s were unmatched. Whenever they feed him, they looked at him with such adoration Tony had felt uncomfortable with at the beginning and couldn’t help looking away. With really bad timing, realization hit him now. Tony kind of liked that look, and he missed it. 

The sobs restarted one more time, this time louder and harder, and Tony was unable to continue drinking. 

\- - - -

"C'mon Tony, let's play with your cars," Clint suggested, holding a couple of transmitters up in front of Tony. He got a silent _no_ as an answer. "Then let's go downstairs and watch a movie. I'll let you pick. We can buy a pizza and I'll make popcorns," he tried again, Tony kept shaking his head as he sucked apprehensively on his pacifier. It had helped to keep him quiet, but big tears continued rolling freely down his cheeks. "Then let's go to your workshop, I'm sure you got a lot of things to do considering you haven't been down there for a while," he offered, and yelped when Bruce moved his leg to hit him. 

"Stop suggesting him things you know he's not allow to do," Bruce whispered angrily.

"Well, I don't hear you suggesting anything! He's been crying for hours, I don't know how you can't stand it" Clint complained. 

"I don't like him to cry, but I don't want him to get scolded either. Steve and Bucky banned all those things," Bruce stated. 

And he was right. Dada and papa would scold him if they came back and saw him doing any of the things Clint had proposed. If dada and papa were home, they wouldn't let him do any of those things. Tony could take advantage of the situation and hold Clint to what he had just said, God only knew how much he craved for something that wasn't baby food, and going to his workshop was something he had stopped asking for, but still wished to do. Although, to be honest, Tony didn't feel like doing any of that, he would prefer dada and papa to be there him. 

They weren't. 

"Look, he's crying again, I told you not to mention their names!" Clint half muttered, half yelled. "Don't cry Tony, please don't cry. Look, here's a rattle, don't you want play with it? It's so cool!" Clint said, voice desperate, agitating a shield-shaped rattle in from of his face. His dada's shield. "Oh, crap," Clint cursed, realizing the mistake he had just made. 

\- - - -

Crying had worn him out, to such an extent that Tony had fallen asleep without realizing it. He just remembered his eyes being all puffy as a result of all the shed tears, forcing him to keep his eyes closed to ease the discomfort that caused. The next time he opened them, the first thing he had seen had been the bars of his crib which he was now so used to see. 

It hadn’t been intentional, but sleeping had helped Tony. He felt a bit better, more rested, and the best thing was that view from his window told him it had already started to get dark, which meant it wouldn’t take long for dada and papa to arrive. Perhaps they were already back, perhaps they had returned while he was sleeping. 

With that thought in his mind, Tony sat up slowly, his movements were always clumsier than usual after waking up, and he couldn’t help to grimace when his diaper squished, cold and uncomfortable. 

“Are you awake, buddy?” someone asked from the door, and Tony had to try with all his might to not let a disappointed sob out. It was Bruce. “How you doing, Tony? Are you feeling better now?” Bruce asked, walking towards his crib. 

“Dada, papa,” Tony said, still hoping they were outside and they hadn’t come to see him because they might have just arrived and they wanted to clean up first.

“Sorry, buddy, they haven’t arrived yet,” Bruce informed, stretching out his arm so he could pet Tony’s head. “But I’m pretty sure they’re gonna be home soon,” he hurried to say when Tony’s mouth turned down in sadness. “Let’s get you something to eat, shall we?” he suggested, sliding his hands under Tony’s armpits and picking him up, “I made some pancakes while you were sleeping, they’re so light and soft I’m sure you won’t have any problems eating them,” he said, patting Tony’s butt, “oh, but first you need a change,” he commented. 

Tony’s face flushed a deep red. Nobody had changed his diapers but dada and papa up until now, and that was embarrassing enough. 

“No!” Tony said when Bruce put him down on the changing table. 

“I’m sorry Tony, but your Dada and Papa would kill me if you get a rash,” Bruce apologized, placing a hand on his stomach to refrain him from getting away. Tony sniffed, he didn’t want anybody else to change his diaper, but he didn’t like having a rash either. “I’ll be quick, I promise,” Bruce assured. 

And Bruce was fast indeed. It must not have taken him more than three minutes to get him into a fresh diaper. He had gotten rid of the soaked one, made sure that every trace of pee was gone and strapped the new diaper into place, picking him up right away to walk out the nursery towards the kitchen. Bruce hadn’t blown raspberries on his tummy like his dada usually do when he thought Tony looked too grumpy for his own good, and he hadn’t threatened the eat his toes and fingers like Papa did. 

“Jesus, is he still crying?” Clint questioned.

“N–” Bruce trailed off when he saw Tony sucking his lower lip as a way to refrain himself from crying, but his teary eyes were enough evidence of the sobs that wouldn’t take a long to start. 

\- - - -

Tony was at the end of his rope. He had tried to calm down for the sake of Bruce and Clint, who seemed to on the edge too due to his behavior – Clint in particular – but it was a bit past midnight and his dada and papa hadn't showed up. 

Before leaving, papa had said Agent Phil promised it was going to be a one-day mission, so Tony didn't understand why they hadn't arrived yet. Was it possible that something bad happened to them? Had they been kidnapped? Hurt? Or worse. Had they been killed? No, no, no, that couldn’t be possible, they had to be fine, they had to come back so Tony could apologize for having been a pain all this time, for complicating things to them when the only thing they were trying was to look after him. 

Yes, if they returned safe and sound, Tony would never throw a tantrum, he would never disobey them, and he would never do all of the things he knew were considered as misbehaving. Nevertheless, the hands of the clock kept moving forward, and the elevator didn't open to show him his dada and papa. 

Sick of waiting, it had occurred to Tony that the best he could do was going to SHIELD’s headquarters, if they had been hurt, Tony wanted to be there with them, and if they weren't, he wanted to be there to find out why they were still gone. Needless to say Bruce hadn't considered that a good idea – well, Tony wasn't even sure if Bruce had understood him when he had told him about it – so, after struggling for many minutes until Bruce let go of him and put him down on the floor, neither Bruce nor Clint had stood up and go with him towards the elevator when Tony had asked them to while he grabbed their hands and pulled them. 

That was the reason Tony was sitting down on the floor in front of the elevator all by himself, wailing his displeasure because it wouldn't open without an adult order and the two adults who were there refused to come with him. 

"I give up, I don't have any ideas, and going to get completely deaf and he'd continue crying and crying for the rest of the days," Clint said, slouched on the sofa looking defeated. 

"I've already told you he wasn't going to stop until Steve and Bucky arrive," Bruce recalled, eyes fixed on the book on his lap. 

"How can you be so relaxed? I'm about to take off my hearing aid and you looked like we hadn't been hearing a crying baby for a whole day, _a whole day_!" Clint pointed out, his eyes narrowed. 

"I'm as frustrated as you are, but I can't let myself get stressed, or we're gonna have a green situation here," Bruce explained. 

 

 

 

“Wow, what’s going on? Why are you still awake?” Steve exclaimed when Tony threw himself into him, latching onto his leg tightly. “Don’t sweetheart, I’m all sweaty and dirty,” he informed, leaning over to try to detach Tony from him, unsuccessfully. Tony wasn’t going to allow him nor Bucky to get away from him again, especially not under the excuse of getting some dirt on him.

"This is the last time I take care of your son! Next time you wanna go on a date, you take him with you! Stop pretending you're bachelors when you already have a son, and a very handful one, let me tell you," Clint complained all in one breath. 

"What?" Steve and Bucky asked all confused, taken aback by Clint and Tony's welcome.

"What do you mean?" Steve questioned Clint, still attempting to make Tony stop hugging his leg, which only caused Tony to burst into tears for the umpteenth time that day. Why did Dada want to push him away? “Wow, wow, what happened? What’s going on here?”

“Come here, doll,” Bucky said, taking advantage of the fact that Tony’s grip had loosen a little due to the crying to scoop him up. Tony wrapped his arms around his neck and hid his face in its crook. Dada had been right, they needed a shower, though Tony couldn’t have cared less. “Shhh, baby, it’s OK, you’re OK,” Bucky cooed. 

“Would you mind telling me what’s going on here? What did you mean by what you said? What happened?” Steve demanded, a hand place on Tony’s head, petting it. 

“That, _that_ is exactly what happened,” Clint expressed as he pointed a finger at Tony accusingly, “Your son’s been crying _all_ day,” he informed. 

“What? Why?” Bucky questioned.

“Because you weren’t here, why else?” Clint assured, getting up from the couch and walking by them, towards the elevator, “now, if you excuse me, I’m gonna go to my room, I’m gonna verify if I haven’t gotten deafer and I’m gonna go to bed. Don’t ever ask me to babysit again, and don't talk to me until that brat ages up,” he warned before the door of the elevator closed in front of him. 

“What just happened here?” Steve wondered, turning his head towards the armchair Bruce was sitting on.

“I guess he got too stressed,” Bruce answered, “he wasn’t lying, Tony cried the whole day, no matter what we did, he just didn’t stop.”

“But why?” Bucky wanted to know. 

“Because of what Clint said, he wanted you guys, he didn’t stop calling you,” Bruce reaffirmed. Tony would have wished to hide under a rock, but he was just so relieved they were here, he chose to ignore what Clint and Bruce were saying about him. 

“Is that true baby?” Bucky asked him, rubbing small circles on his back. Tony’s only answer was tightening his grip, not really in a mood for words. 

“Oh, you silly, silly baby, you should’ve said something, if you didn’t want us to leave, we would’ve stayed,” Steve said before pressing a kiss on the top of his head. Tony melted into it. “Nothing is more important that you, we left because you even seemed eager to see us go, but we wouldn’t have if you had said something,” Steve reassured.

The thing was, Tony had had no idea he was going to miss them that much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think?
> 
> Just to clarify, Clint wasn't really mad at them, he was just too stressed and was kind of throwing a tantrum himslef to cope with it. :p
> 
> I guess this is going to end soon, not really looking forward to extending this too much. If I get more ideas, I might create a series and add one-shots, but as fas as this story concerns, two or three chapters and that's it. n_n'


	11. Chapter 11

The unmistakable sound the baby walker made prompted Bucky to turn his head just in time to see marching Tony down the hall towards the living room. Hair damp from the bath Steve had just given him and his Iron man footie pajamas on, ready to go to sleep. 

Bucky raised an eyebrow in confusion, and chuckled right after when he saw the way Tony was moving: he took some fast steps to gather momentum, and then he let the walker drag him for a couple of meters. Not many weeks ago, Tony would complain whenever he was put in the walker, sometimes he even threw a tantrum so that someone took him out of there, but now, he didn't. He still liked to be put down on the floor so he could walk by himself, but if he was put in a walker because they couldn't watch over him and he had already fallen down plenty of times trying to walk by himself, Tony didn't whine. 

"What do you want, pumpkin? " Bucky asked when he saw Tony going closer to his stack of toys and other belongings that were kept on the corner of the room, moving things around looking for something. 

"No," Tony said, without any heat. It still was his favorite word, but instead of being a sign that let them know he was starting to get mad, now it was just a way Tony had to inform them he would like to do whatever he was doing by himself. Therefore, Bucky waited. 

"Ohhh, do you want me to call Bruce for you?" Bucky questioned when Tony turned around and began walking towards him, a book on the tray of the walker. 

"No," Tony denied, holding up his arms once he was in front of Bucky, letting him know he wanted to be picked up. 

"No?" Bucky echoed, taking Tony out of the walker and placing him on his lap, and arm around his waist to prevent him from falling while the other reached for the book. "Then why did you bring the book? Bruce's the one who reads to you.” Tony shook his head as he pointed a chubby index at him. 

"Me? Do you want me to read to you?" Bucky asked. Tony nodded effusively, taking Bucky aback. Steve and he had tried to read to Tony quite a few times so they didn't disturb Bruce, but Tony had never let that happened, he didn't even let them stay in the same room. And know he was asking him to do it? What the-

"Papa!" Tony called his attention, slapping the book Bucky still had in his hand. 

"Oh yes, yes, reading, I'm going," Bucky said as he opened the book. "Harry Potter was a highly unusual boy in many ways. For one thing…" he began, and he was sure a goofy smile appeared on his face when Tony snuggled against his abdomen, thumb emigrating to his mouth. 

A couple of chapters later, Bucky noticed how Tony's eyes remained closed for more and more time every time he blinked, until they stayed like that. 

"What's going on?" Bucky heard Steve asked, materializing next to him, rubbing a towel over his hair. 

"Did you bath too?" Bucky questioned. He had actually wondered why Tony had showed up alone. 

"Well, I was already wet, so it's not like I had much of an option," Steve explained, sitting down next to him. 

"How come?"

"Tony got really carried away with the bath toys, especially that thing that looks like a fountain that you bought him, it splashes a lot of water!” Steve complained, throwing the towel at him, missing. Bucky was sure he did that on purpose so he didn’t disturb Tony’s sleep. “You should’ve told me it did that.”

“Well, its name is Stack N' Spray Bathtub Fountain, I thought you figured how it worked by looking at the name, you were the one who unboxed it,” Bucky said mockingly. “Anyway, if you didn’t want him to wet you, you should’ve taken it away.”

“I tried, but after he saw how surprised I was when I realized what it did, he didn’t let it go. Though by the end he just kept splashing water everywhere with no toy.” Steve related, not sounding angry in the slightest. 

Bucky looked funnily at him, “and why didn’t you stop him?” 

“Because he was laughing,” Steve muttered, his cheeks acquiring a faint shade of pink. 

Oh yes, if they have thought it was difficult to say _no_ to Tony whenever he threw a tantrum, it was just impossible to denied him anything when they heard him laugh. Words couldn’t describe how cute Tony’s laughs were, how fulfilling the experience of hearing him giggle was. 

“Anyway,” Steve moved on, “what just happened here? Did I miss Bruce?” he asked, pointing at Tony with a tilt of his head. 

“No, he didn’t come,” Bucky informed. 

“So?” Steve’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. 

“He asked me to read him.”

“I told you! Either Bruce or Clint dropped him on his head that day when they looked after him!” Steve exclaimed, raising his voice a bit too much. He had been insisting on that theory a lot lately. 

“Shh! You’re gonna wait him up,” Bucky scolded whispering, but it was too late, Tony was already stirring. It wasn’t good, Tony got always moody when he was awakened. His face crumbled a little as he opened his eyes, blinking a few times to get rid of the blurry vision. 

"Dada?" Tony said, and both Steve and Bucky flinched, expecting Tony to start crying any time soon, moody. 

However, Tony never did that. Instead, he raised an arm and beckoned Steve with his small hand. After looking questionably at Bucky, Steve leaned over him, and Bucky couldn't believe his eyes when Tony straightened up enough to brush a kiss on Steve's cheek, just to lean back on his arm right after, moving to find a more comfortable position before closing his eyes once more. 

"You see!" Steve half muttered, half yelled once he was sure Tony had gone back to sleep. "He's behaving weirdly."

"OK, let's assume you're right, let's assume something happened to him and that's why he's being all nice. But I've got a question for you," Bucky said, "do you really mind?" 

Steve opened his mouth as if to say something, but he didn't. Certainly, Steve didn’t mind that Tony was acting like this. Bucky even dared to say Steve was enjoying it as much as him.

\- - - -

“Can you move your left hand?” Steve asked, observing Tony closely. The latter did as he was told, he lifted his left arm and moved his hand back and forth. “What about your wrist? Can you move it?” Tony moved it in a circular motion, a bit uncoordinatedly. “Can you hand me a red lego?”

Tony raised an eyebrow questionably, and after thinking about it for a bit, he crawled to a pile of toys he had a few inches away from him, and searched for the piece of lego Steve had asked him for. When he found it, he pulled himself up to stand, waiting a few seconds until he was sure he wasn’t going to lose his balance to waddle towards Steve. 

“He,” Tony said as he extended his arm, handing him the lego brick. 

“Thank you, baby,” Steve expressed, taking it from his hand. “Now, would you mind giving me a blue block?” he asked, but Tony didn’t move this time. Instead, he flopped onto the floor with a big pout on his face. 

“No,” Tony refused. 

“You’re gonna make him angry. Stop it already,” Bucky scolded from the sofa. Steve ignored him. 

“Are you sure you understand me, sweetheart?” Steve questioned Tony, still not convinced. 

“Yesh!” Tony assured, nodding. 

“Then, can you tell me what’s five times five?” 

Tony’s pout deepened, but he still showed him two fingers with his right hand and five with the left one. 

“Really? You know he’s a genius, don’t you? That question was insulting for him,” Bucky commented, Tony’s expression backed up that accusation. 

“Well, then tell me how much is three hundred two times eighty-seven,” Steve asked, glaring at Bucky. He wasn’t helping at all, but he sure had no problem criticizing him. 

Tony pursed his lips while his eyes moved in a way Steve knew he was seeing some mental numbers, and after not more than a few seconds, Tony showed him different numbers with his little fingers. Steve couldn’t remember those numbers when he tried to recall them. 

“So?” Bucky said, and Steve could feel the heat rising up through his body and spreading right up into his face. 

“I don’t know, math was never my strong suit,” Steve mumbled. Bucky let out a guffaw. “Oh, shut up!” he ordered as he hurled the lego brick at him. “At least I’m trying to do something,” he argued, certain reproach in the tone of his voice. 

“I told you you’re overacting,” Bucky defended himself, “the only thing you’re gonna achieve if you continue with this is upset him,” he warned. 

Steve had spent all morning on one single task: trying to figure out what was wrong with Tony. He already checked Tony’s head for any injury – a blow to the head could be something serious, particularly in infants. What if Tony had bumped his head badly when throwing all those tantrums? Steve had also verified if Tony’s body temperature was normal and looked for any sign of disease. And now, he was attempting to check if Tony’s adult mind was still intact by asking him to random things. Everything proved Bucky was right, there was nothing wrong with him. 

It wasn’t like Bucky disagreed with Steve, he did accept Tony’s behavior was odd, he just thought there wasn’t really a reason. However, Steve insisted there have to be one, Tony couldn’t have changed so drastically overnight. 

“What good would it do if you knew why he’s acting like this?” Bucky had asked him, “Maybe it’s just a phase, maybe he’ll wake up tomorrow and he’ll restart throwing tantrums and all that stuff, and then you’ll realize you didn’t enjoy his well-behaved self while it lasted because you were so busy thinking about the reason.” 

Steve couldn’t refute that. However, his brain refused to believe Tony was being nice just for the sake of being nice. 

"Tell your silly Dada to stop bothering you," Bucky told Tony. But Tony ignored him, he was already crawling towards the corner where most of his toys were. 

“Is it possible he’s going to do something bad, like trying to escape, and this is just a way to make us lower our guard?” Steve muttered, not wanting Tony to hear just in case what he was saying was true. 

“You’re giving this a lot of thought, just stop it,” Bucky scolded, slouching more on the sofa. “seriously, if you upset him, you’re gonna deal with him,” he warned. 

"Da!" Tony called, standing next to him with a box in his hands. 

"What is it, sweetheart?" Steve asked, letting Tony push his arms out of the way so he could sit on his lap. 

"Pway!" Tony said as he shook the box. 

Steve looked up at Bucky with eyes wide open as his mouth said "you see" without producing any sound. Tony did not share toys. 

"What do you have there, doll?" Bucky asked as he got up from the couch and squat down in front of Tony, ignoring Steve. "A jigsaw puzzle?" You want us to help you put it together?" he suggested. Tony nodded, handing the box to Bucky. "Sure, it sounds like fun," Bucky agreed, opening the box and spreading the pieces on the floor. “Let’s see if Dada’s better at this than at math,” Bucky mocked. 

And Steve would have talked him back if Tony’s hand hadn’t been tugging his t-shirt, gesturing him he wanted him to take part in the game. 

“Of course, baby,” Steve agreed, brushing a kiss on his head. 

Steve was determined to find out what was going on. Although, that didn’t mean he wouldn’t learn to enjoy moments like the one he was having. It was impossible not to please Tony when he was being that cute. 

\- - - -

“Dada,” Tony called him for the umpteenth time. 

“Your Dada is right there,” Bruce soothed, pointing at Steve. If the last ten times Bruce had said that hadn’t coaxed Tony into cooling down, it wouldn’t this time either. 

“Dada.”

“You’re looking at your Dada, he’s over there, but he’s busy, he can’t carry you right now,” Bruce explained, in vain. Steve could see out of the corner of his eyes how Tony was getting more and more restless by the minute. 

“No, Dada!” Tony insisted, totally ignoring Bruce. He started to squirm slightly, pushing the arm that was wrapped around his waist and was refraining him to get way from Bruce. Steve kept hitting the punching bag, trying to ignore the urge to turn around and get Tony. 

“No, Tony, if you get close, Steve might hurt you by accident,” Bruce reasoned, lifting Tony a little to sit him down on his lap once more. Steve knew it was a matter of minutes before Tony made his way to the floor once more. 

“Lego!” Tony demanded, already fidgeting, “Dada!”

“Why don’t we play with your toys? Don’t you want to try the new plane? I modified I so it flew higher,” Bruce suggested.

“No pway, Dada!”

“I’m not going to upgrade any of your toys if you’re not playing with them anymore,” Bruce warned. Perhaps he thought that would make Tony quit. What Bruce didn’t know was that Tony didn’t play anymore unless either Bucky or Steve played with him, otherwise playing seemed to be something he wasn’t interested in. 

“Dada!” Tony yelled, with a tone of voice which sounded so pitiful that Steve had to stop what he was doing. He didn’t think Tony was going to throw a tantrum right there – that hadn’t happened for plenty of days – what Steve didn’t want was that Tony started to cry, because he didn’t cry with those ear-piercing wails as a spoiled brat anymore, instead, he sobbed with such a feeling, it was heartbreaking to hear him. 

Steve sighed deeply, “Let him come, Bruce,” he allowed. 

“Are you sure?” Steve nodded. 

As soon as Bruce moved his arm, Tony pushed Bruce’s legs out of the way – more like Bruce moved them – pulled himself up, and ran towards him. His legs failed him when he was a few feet away from him, and he fell down, but he stood up before Steve could go to help him. 

"Dada." Tony tugged his sweatpants. 

"What is it baby?" Steve questioned, squatting down in front of him. Tony took advantage of that to get closer and raised his arms as a sign of wanting to be picked up. "I can't pick you up right now, honey, Dada's training," Steve informed. 

"Dada, up," Tony insisted, opening and closing his hands, his arms still held up. 

"Dada needs to train, sweetheart. During the last mission I felt a bit rusted because I haven't been exercising, and that's not good," Steve explained, pulling Tony's arms down. "Go back with Bruce and play something, I promise I’ll be done soon," he said as he turned Tony around, and pushed him gently, encouraging to walk back towards Bruce. Tony gave some steps, before turning around and clutching his sweatpants. 

"No wan," Tony refused. 

“Why not? You like Bruce, don’t you? He’s cool,” Steve commented, as if Tony had forgotten the only person he enjoyed hanging out with besides Bucky and Steve was Bruce. It had been precisely for that reason Steve had asked Bruce to look after him while he did some training. Steve had even allowed them to come to the gym so Tony didn’t get too distressed for not seeing neither Bucky nor Steve around. 

“No, Dada,” Tony pleaded, the tip of his index and middle fingers disappearing inside his mouth, his eyes beginning to tear up.

“C’mon, sweetheart, I promise we’ll play, watch a movie or do whatever you want after I finish my workout routine,” Steve insisted, rubbing Tony’s tummy gently. Tony shook his head energetically. 

“Dada.”

“So? Are you going to continue or can I go?” Bruce asked, standing next to him. He held out his arms and beckoned Tony toward him with a quick hand movement. Tony shook his head again, and hugged Steve’s arm. 

“There’s no use, he doesn’t seem to be with anyone but Bucky and me. But Bucky went running,” Steve informed, scooping Tony up and standing up, “So, I guess you can go, thanks anyway,” he thanked before he smiled fondly when Tony threw his arms around his neck, “this little fellow here will have to help me with my training,” he informed as he walked to the end of the room, where a few dumbbell racks were, displaying several dumbbells of different sizes. 

“Don’t make him lift anything heavy, he’s a baby,” Bruce scolded, still there.

“Of course not! Who do you think I am? Clint?” Steve complained, leaning over to take the one of heaviest dumbbells from the racks with the hand he wasn’t using to hold Tony. He put it down on the floor and repeat the action once more. 

“Just saying,” Bruce commented, shrugging his shoulders. 

“Just hold him for me for a bit,” Steve asked as he passed Tony to Bruce’s arms, quickly so Tony couldn’t do anything to stop him. 

“Dada!” Tony called, stretching himself as much as possible to reach Steve, but he was already crouching down. 

Moving the dumbbells until they were slightly wider than his shoulders’ width apart, Steve set himself in a pushup position with his hands on them. He lowered his body to the floor and completed a pushup after a small pause, to pull the dumbbell on the right upwards to his chest right after, repeating the motion with the left dumbbell after lowering the right one. 

“Dada!” Tony said, this voice telling Steve he was still struggling to get away from Bruce. 

“Lay him on my back,” Steve ordered. He turned his head just enough to see Bruce. A remark was definitely on the tip of his tongue, though he said nothing. He leaned over to place Tony face-down on his back, and stayed close, wanting to make sure Tony was not going to slide off. “Put your arms around my neck, honey, and hold on tightly,” Steve commanded to Tony, and waited until he felt Tony’s chubby arms embracing his neck to lower his torso to the ground and raise himself again very carefully, checking if Tony could keep himself from falling. 

“I’m not sure about your parenting skills,” Bruce declared, sitting down next to him, far enough to not be hit with the dumbbells by accident, but close enough to catch Tony in case he fell off Steve’s back. 

“Hey, parents need to manage to continue with their lives,” Steve argued as he continued doing pushups, a little bit faster every time as it seemed Tony wouldn’t fall. 

Bruce might have been right. Steve should have stopped exercising instead of doing what he was doing in order to take care of Tony, who was demanding his attention. And he would have done that if Tony hadn’t started giggling every time he lowered himself close to the ground. 

\- - - -

"Bucky, don't move!" Steve ordered as soon as he stepped into his room. "There's a lump in your bed," he announced. Bucky chuckled when he saw Tony's curling into a smaller ball under the sheets. 

"It's a pillow," Bucky lied, looking how Steve tiptoed to the bed.

"A pillow? Oh, I thought it was this certain person who shouldn't be here," Steve played along, grabbing the ends of the sheets, "because that person knows what's gonna happen if I find him here again," he warned, pulling the sheets all of a sudden, revealing Tony. "Aha!" 

"No! Papa!" Tony exclaimed as he rolled over as fast as he could, reaching for him. It wasn't fast enough, though. Effortlessly, Steve grabbed Tony from the ankle and pulled him closer to him. 

"What do you think you're doing here, mister?" Steve asked without the intention of giving him the chance to answer. In no time, Steve had Tony roaring with laughter under him, tickling his feed and blowing raspberries on his tummy. Bucky had to admit, Tony’s laugh was pleasing to the ear. 

“P-pa-p-pa!” Tony wheezed, cheeks flushed and hands trying to push Steve’s head away, with no luck. 

“Your Papa is not gonna help you, in fact, he’s the next one for helping you to disobey me,” Steve informed, giving Tony some seconds so he could catch his breath before he started to wiggle his fingers against his ribs. 

“Steve,” Bucky said in a warning voice. As much as Bucky liked to hear Tony’s giggling, he had changed his diaper not long before Steve arrived, and if Steve kept tickling him, Tony was going to have an accident. That always made him a bit grumpy, not the most recommendable sentiment before going to bed. 

“OK, OK,” Steve relented. Tony rolled over and crawled towards Bucky as soon as his breath steadied, throwing himself to his open arms. “But this little man has to tell me what he’s doing here,” Steve said, stretching one of his arms to spank Tony’s diapered butt softly, making him jump. 

“Papa!” Tony squealed, attempting to climb over Bucky’s chest.

“Easy there, doll, you’re gonna fall,” Bucky stated, helping him to crawled over his chest, an arm around him protectively. 

“Seriously, I thought we’d all agree he had to sleep in his room,” Steve recalled, moving closer to Bucky so he could tussle Tony’s hair affectionately. “C’mon sweetheart, let’s go to your room.”

“No!” Tony refused, his hands fisting into Bucky’s t-shirt. 

“Yes, yesterday you promised you’d sleep in your crib if I let you sleep with one of us, so, c’mon, let Papa’s t-shirt go and let’s go,” Steve prompted, padding his butt a couple of times more. 

"No!" Tony denied again, hiding his face against Bucky’s chest. 

"Yes, you promised," Steve repeated, sounding as if something terrible would happen if Tony broke his promise. "Tell him something, Papa," Steve asked for reinforcement, looking up at Bucky. 

Bucky understood why Steve wanted Tony to sleep in his crib. Even if Tony didn't suffer from nightmares anymore and he slept peacefully during all night, Steve still thought sleeping with them wasn't a good idea. They usually woke up very early, when the sun hadn't even risen up, their bodies didn't require as much sleep as a normal human being. The thing was, Tony woke up as soon as he felt them getting up from the bed, and refused to go back to sleep, even if he was clearly sleepy. Unlike them, Tony’s body did need more rest, and he wasn’t getting it. 

That wouldn't be a problem if Tony took at least a couple of naps during the day, but he disliked naps. By mid-morning, Tony got all cranky because he was extremely sleepy and he neither want to nor was able to fall asleep, and Steve or Bucky had to spend around an hour bouncing him and cooing him until exhaustion finally caught up with him. 

It wasn't like they didn't want to waste time making Tony sleep, Bucky thought cranky Tony was incredibly cute – as long as he wasn't throwing a tantrum – they just wanted Tony to be healthy, and for that it was necessary he slept enough. Besides, Steve was still worry Tony would stay like a baby, and he insisted on implementing a proper routine, for the sake of everyone.

"Your Dada is right, sport, you promised," Bucky backed up. 

"No!" Tony kept repeating.

"Do you really want to sleep with your Papa? He snores! You'll sleep more comfortably in your own room," 

"Hey!" Bucky exclaimed. Steve grinned. 

"Yes, c'mere, we're going to your room. I'll tell you a story," Steve promised, placing both hands on Tony's sides and lifting him up. And Steve would have pulled him closer if Tony's hands had let Bucky’s t-shirt go. 

"Papa!" Tony cried, "'oday! Pwomise!" 

Bucky looked at Steve, and both of them sighed with resignation at the same time. Tony had been promising that for over a week. Needless to say neither of them had been able to kick him out of their bedrooms, in spite of knowing Tony didn’t really mean it. 

Twenty minutes later, Tony laid on Bucky’s abdomen, sleeping deeply. 

“So much for not letting him sleep with us anymore,” Steve commented with no real heat in his voice. 

“Well, it was your turn to try to take him to his room,” Bucky defended himself, his hand patting Tony’s behind rhythmically. 

“You could’ve said or done something when I was trying to detach him from your t-shirt,” Steve complained, chuckling when he realized Tony had drooled over him. Bucky had felt the wetness minutes ago. He didn’t mind at all. 

“Let’s see what you do tomorrow when you’re the one he’s clinging to,” Bucky said as he squinted at him, knowing perfectly well Steve would behave the same way Bucky had. 

\- - - -

“Papa!” Tony shouted, stepping on their tip-toes and leaning against the back of the couch. Steve was sure he would try to climb it if his hand wasn’t grasping the fabric of his onesie. 

“Shhh, Papa went to get some snacks, he’ll be right back,” Steve soothed. 

“So, now he gets fussy even if you both are in the same room?” Clint remarked, Natasha shot a warning glare at him. “What? I’m just saying I get if he cries when they leave, but Bucky is right there, why is he calling him?” Clint argued, turning around and pointing at the kitchen, where Bucky was.

“I guess he’s feeling a bit under the weather,” Steve excused, pulling Tony closer until he was sitting on his lap. If Tony aged up, he would feel extremely embarrassed if everybody found out he was getting more and more attached to Bucky and him to such a degree of getting apprehensive if both of them weren’t around. 

“Like you never get fussy,” Natasha muttered. 

“Of course I don’t!” Clint exclaimed. 

“If you say so.”

“Take it easy, love bug, Papa will be right back,” Steve cooed when Tony began squirming. 

“Actually, I’m already here,” Bucky announced, materializing next to Steve with a tray in his hands. Tony leaned over as much as Steve let him and tapped the empty seat next to them. 

“Wait a moment, doll, let me put this here,” Bucky said, already placing the tray with snacks on the coffee table in front of them, taking the bottle off it before sitting down where Tony was indicating him. 

There had been a time when Bucky and Steve avoided by all means showing Tony anything that we would like to eat but he shouldn’t. If they did, a tantrum was certainly in order. However, they allowed him some snacks once in a while now that his stomach seemed to handle more than just baby food. And what did they do to make sure Tony didn’t eat more snacks than he should? They gave him a bottle and he was required to finish it before getting anything else. By the time all the formula was gone, Tony was too full to want to eat something else. 

Bucky and Steve still wondered if Tony hadn’t really realized their little trick, or if he didn’t care anymore. 

“Be careful,” Steve warned as Tony climbed off his lap and sat down between Bucky and him. 

“You can play the movie now,” Bucky instructed, handing the bottle to Tony and making sure he could hold it by himself before letting it go. 

“Finally,” Clint said.

“Well, I’m sorry, but if you didn’t want to wait, you could’ve helped me with the snacks,” Bucky stated, “you’re the one who was hungry in the first place.” Clint didn’t reply, his mouth was already full of chips. 

The lights of the room dimmed considerably while the screen in front of them turned on and displayed the logo of the Japanese company that produced the movie. An animated movie. Steve had been afraid Tony didn’t like the idea of watching an animated movie – like he had done before – but when he had been told about it, he hadn’t complained. 

“Sorry for interrupting you, but you have a video call,” JARVIS informed out of the blue when the movie had been being played just for ten minutes. “I need your authorization to play it on the screen.”

“A phone call for who?” Bruce asked.

“All of you, Mr. Banner,” JARVIS answered. Everybody turned to look at each other, expressions confused. 

Were the Avengers being assembled? If that was the case, why hadn’t the alarm gone off?

“Show us,” Steve ordered, and his stomach flipped over when the movie was paused and replaced by the video call. 

Jane and Thor greeted them from the other side of the screen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is coming to an end. One or two chapters more and that's it. Not sure yet. 
> 
> I did want a chapter where Tony behaved and enjoyed spending time with Steve and Bucky, so, here it is.
> 
> I wrote this on my cell phone, so please please, let me know if there are some horrible mistakes with the spelling or grammar (I was too lazy to look for some expressions I wasn't very sure of how to say, as it is more difficult to do that with the cell phone than with the computer).
> 
> Any comments is always well received :).


	12. Chapter 12

Thor had located Loki’s whereabouts and he was going to revert the spell he had cast on Tony. A couple of weeks would be needed to bring Loki to the Earth, he currently was in the custody of Asgard’s Court and they wouldn’t release him that easily. However, after waiting for months, a two-week wait was practically nothing. It even sounded dreamy.

After having been wishing for it for what seemed an eternity, Tony would finally be able to stop wearing stupid diapers, eating tasteless baby food, sleeping in a confining crib, entertaining himself with boring baby toys, and being under surveillance every single minute of the day. Finally, Tony would be able to go back working in his workshop, and do as he pleased. 

There had been a moment when Tony had thought this was going to be irreversible, and that he would have no choice but to grow up for a second time if he wanted to be an adult again. The mere thought of that made Tony shudder, it was a huge relief to find out that wasn't going to happen. In two weeks he was going to be his adult self again. It had been a long time since Tony had gotten such wonderful news. He should be extremely happy. Except, he wasn't. 

What the hell was wrong with him? This horrible experience would be over in no time and Tony, instead of being thrilled about it, he was sad? Of all the things and scenarios Tony had imagined, having mixed-feelings about aging up was definitely not one of them. 

The event had been unfortunate, frustrating and humiliating, and Tony couldn’t wait to leave everything behind once and for all. Therefore, it was beyond his understanding why he got that lump in his throat whenever he thought this was going to be over soon. Did Tony have a hidden like for humiliation he wasn’t aware of? Did he like to be forced to do things he really didn’t want to do? No, that couldn’t be it. Tony got distressed just for picturing Steve or Bucky cleaning his messy butt during a diaper change, it had been one of the most demeaning things he had experienced and he definitely didn’t want to have to go through a diaper change once everything went back to normal. 

Then what was it? What was making Tony feel this troubled and anxious over something he supposedly wished more than anything?

 _Maybe the fact that you didn't have a proper childhood is making you feel this way_ , a little voice inside his head said. Tony didn’t deny that made sense. His childhood had literally sucked, and Tony would be lying if he said he wouldn't have liked to have a better one. Nonetheless, there was another inner voice that told him that reason wasn’t entirely the one to blame for his uneasiness. But then, what else was there?

The mattress moved a bit under him, breaking Tony’s train of thought. Out of the corner of his eyes Tony could see Steve moving in his sleep as if looking for a more comfortable position. Tony rolled over until he was laying on his side facing Steve and chuckled when Steve let out a mild snore. Steve frequently mocked Bucky because he snored, Tony wondered what Steve would think if he found out he did too. For the lack of anything better to do, Tony observed Steve. He did look peaceful when sleeping, and suddenly, something clicked in Tony’s mind. 

The reason why Tony was having all this mixed-feelings. 

Now that Tony came to think about it, it was embarrassingly obvious. The thing that was making him feel uneasy wasn’t that his experiences as a baby were coming to an end, but rather his opportunity to spend quality time with his so-called daddies. 

It turned out his lame childhood hadn’t been the thing that had scarred him the most, but the absence of loving parents. Turning him into an infant was the worst thing Loki could have ever done to him, however, if that hadn't happened, Tony would have never known what having devoted parents was like. 

Because that was how parents were supposed to be, wasn't it? Tony's behavior had been awful, he had been mean, disrespectful and unfair to Steve and Bucky, he had thrown tantrums over senseless things, he had complicated their lives without valid reasons, and yet, Steve and Bucky had always been there for him, ready to ease his pain after he had fallen down, ready to soothe him after a nightmare, ready to play with him when he was bored, ready to do everything in their power to make him happy. 

And why had they done that? Was it possible that Steve and Bucky meant it when they told Tony _I love you_ right before he was about to fall asleep? Hadn’t those words been a product of his imagination? Tony didn’t want to delve so deeply into that, not really. He just knew he had liked all the attention both Steve and Bucky had given him. And he also knew how wrong that was. Because, looking for a father figure on people who were even younger than him was not alright. Yes, technically, both Steve and Bucky were much older than him, but still, the fact that they were older didn’t make it right for him, an adult, to see them as parents. 

This weird relationship Tony had developed with them had to stop. He couldn’t let himself get more attach to them, not when he was days away from aging up. It was better to stop this right now, to put some distance between them, in order to avoid some awkwardness when everything went back to normal.

The dependence needed to cease too. Tony had gotten so used to being looked after that he had handed the responsibility to Steve and Bucky of things Tony could do by himself even in his current state. That wasn’t good either. What if this reliance had consequences later? There was a small possibility that Tony didn’t remember any of this once he was turned back into an adult – and Tony was keeping his fingers crossed for that – but what if that didn’t happen and he kept, even as an adult, this desire for them to do everything for him? That wouldn’t be OK at all. 

Tony had to cut ties with them. 

Everything was easier said than done, though. 

 

A quick glance to Steve’s alarm clock let Tony know he had been trying to fall asleep for more than two hours now. He had woken up and his brain had refused to shut down enough to let him get back to sleep, bombarding him with countless questions. He could easily wake Steve up and inform him about his insomnia problem. Steve would surely go and get him a bottle with warm milk and would rock him until Tony could go back to dreamland. 

Yes, that sounded so nice. Even if it was a bit embarrassing, Tony couldn’t deny it felt good to be cooed to sleep. A shame his mind was made up, he was determined to put a stop to all this. 

Tony straightened and stayed sat on the bed, staring at Steve. Exhaustion would wear him out eventually, so Tony just had to wait. Maybe seeing Steve’s peacefully sleeping figure would be contagious somehow. Or maybe not.

“Tony?” Steve asked, voice drowsy and confused, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand as he lifted his head enough to look at Tony. “Why are you crying sweetheart? Did you have a nightmare?” he wanted to know.

Bewildered, Tony put a hand to his face and was surprised to feel his cheeks wet. When the hell had he started to cry? Why the hell was he crying? A bit too roughly, Tony wiped the tears away. This ridiculous display of emotions was something he was definitely not going to miss either. Crying over the most trivial things was almost as embarrassing as having his diapers changed. 

“Cap!” Tony expressed when his vision kept getting blurred no matter how many times he rubbed his eyes. He kicked the pillow in front of him a couple of times in frustration, and squealed a little when he felt Steve’s hands on his sides and before hefting him up.

“C’mon here, baby boy, it’s OK,” Steve soothed, pulling him into a hug, “it was just a bad dream, it wasn’t real.” 

Tony squirmed trying to get away from Steve. He was perfectly fine, and there was no valid reason for him to be crying. He didn’t need to get comforted nor cooed. What he needed was to be left alone. In a few days he was going to be an adult again, which meant he couldn’t continue with this childish behavior, he needed to man up. Tony couldn’t melt into Steve’s body, he couldn’t let the small circles Steve was rubbing on the small of his back be soothing, he couldn’t let himself believe that what Steve was saying about Dada being there for him was true, he couldn’t let himself cry his anxiety and confusion out on Steve’s shoulder.

But Tony was doing exactly that. Before he could do anything about it, tears were escaping freely from his eyes and his hands clutched desperately the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. 

“Easy there, honey, easy,” Steve said, brushing a kiss over the top of Tony’s head at the same time he rocked him tenderly, “it’s OK, Dada’s here, and he’s not gonna let anything bad happen to you,” he promised. 

Tony cursed himself internally. So much for wanting to keep his distance from Steve and Bucky.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Very short chapter, I know. I just haven't felt like writing lately, I guess I've been kind of down. Hopefully, it won't take me more than a week to update. Actually, I do want to finish this soon so I can concentrate on the other story I'm writing :P.
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it :)


	13. Chapter 13

“No,” Tony refused, turning his head away from the spoon Bucky was holding up in front of his mouth. 

“No what, doll? Aren’t you hungry?” Bucky questioned, eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. Tony shook his head. “That’s not true, baby, your tummy was making funny noises minutes ago,” he pointed out. 

“No,” Tony said, mouth close to avoid Bucky from popping the spoon into his mouth. He had made use of that trick several times, and Tony wasn’t falling for it anymore. 

“You know it’s not good to lie to papa,” Bucky warned, resting his elbow on the tray of the highchair. 

“No wan,” Tony exclaimed.

“Don’t you like it? It’s apple and banana, you like apples and bananas, don’t you?” Tony shook his head again. “Yes, you do. You’ve even had asked us for second helpings. Besides, it’s more delicious this time, I chose fresh fruit and smashed them myself. Look,” Bucky said, plunging the tip of his pinky into the small bowl and then he slipped it into his mouth, savoring the puree that had stuck onto it, “Yummy! This tastes really good!” Tony squinted at him. There was no doubt it was tasty (not that Tony would ever admit that out loud) but it wasn’t as good as Bucky was pretending it was. “If you don’t want it, I guess I’ll have to eat it myself then.”

“No! ma!” Tony declared, leaning to grab the handle of the spoon before Bucky moved it away. The fact that he had been refusing to eat the mush didn’t mean that Tony wasn’t hungry nor that he didn’t want to eat it. The issue here was that Tony didn’t want to be fed anymore. 

Bucky chuckled, “okay, okay, I’m not eating it. It’s all yours, sweetheart. Here, open up.”

“No! ‘imme!” Tony demanded, pulling the spoon in order to make Bucky let go of it. 

Today, Tony had woken up with only one resolution in mind: carry through with what he had decided the night before. That meant he couldn’t let neither Bucky nor Steve do everything for him, it was indispensable for him to start being self-sufficient. No adults were spoon fed, unless they were sick or something, and that was definitely not Tony’s case. He was just being lazy and that couldn’t continue.

The more he relied on them to satisfy his needs, the more difficult the transition from baby to adult would be. 

“Let me feed you, doll, or you’re going to make a mess,” Bucky stated.

“No! me!” Tony insisted, his face turning red due to the effort. Bucky’s grip on the spoon was firm.  
“But–”

“ME!” Tony didn’t allow Bucky to finish. 

Bucky breathed deeply, and then he consented, "okay, okay, but be carefully, baby.”

A bit reluctantly, Bucky turned the spoon until its handle was facing Tony and allowed him to hold it. Tony smiled triumphantly, just before his eyebrows furrowed in irritation when he realized Bucky kept a hand under it, afraid Tony might spill its contents. 

"No!" Tony fumed, pushing his hand away. 

"Jeez, I’m sorry, relax," Bucky apologized, holding both hands up as he backed away. Tony kept glaring at him until Bucky was a considerable distance away from him. 

With clumsy movements, Tony popped the spoon in his mouth with a pleased grin. He didn’t need Bucky to do something he could perfectly do by himself, he was more than capable of looking after himself in spite of his current physique. Perhaps it would take him more time than usual, as well as more effort, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was not possible. 

Yes, Tony was well aware that certain things would be impossible for him to do right now, but some others wouldn’t, and those were the ones Tony would focus on. For instance, controlling his bladder was something Tony doubted he was capable of doing, changing his diaper, on the other hand, could be something he could actually do, it couldn’t be that difficult. Fixing himself something to eat was not possible right now, but feeding himself was. Those little things would make a huge difference later, and Tony was determined to do them. He _could_ do them.

A shame that his confidence and contentment didn’t last long, since it turned out using a spoon wasn’t as easy as he remembered it was. Dipping it into the little bowl to get more puree and then pull it out was hard when your movements weren’t precise and coordinated, and managing to get it to his mouth without spilling anything was even harder. Perhaps if Tony had one of those special spoons for babies, he would have been able to feed himself with it successfully, but even if the one he was holding was smaller than a normal one, that spoon hadn’t been made to facilitate babies to self-feed. 

“Let me help you, doll,” Bucky offered by the fifth time Tony dropped the spoon on the tray when he was trying to turn it towards his mouth.

“No!” Tony denied, voice angry. 

“You’re dropping everything,” Bucky reasoned. 

“NO!” Tony repeated, slamming the damn spoon down on the tray. Bucky sighed, though he insisted no further. 

Tony looked at the spoon angrily and then at the bowl. Why did everything seem to be plotting against him? Why did the universe insist on making him miserable? He pushed the spoon off the tray, crabbed, and glared at Bucky to deter him from getting closer. This still wasn’t a lost battle, Tony was going to feed himself even if he had to plunge his head into the bowl to achieve that. 

He grabbed the bowl, pulled it as close as possible and threw it a murderous look. The bowl was too small to put his head inside. Damn. Tony looked around him searching for something he could use as a spoon, and he felt like screaming out of frustration when he saw nothing. Steve and his freaking mania for keeping everything in its place. 

“Tony,” Bucky called. Tony refused to meet his gaze, knowing perfectly well the kind of look he would find in Bucky’s face: pity. They always looked at him like that whenever Tony tried to do something by himself and ended up not being able. Well, this time would be different! 

Maybe Tony could lift the bowl and use it as a cup, the mush wasn’t that thick. He tightened his grip on the bowl and tried to raised it, but it slipped out of his hands just when it was an inch away from the tray. Tony cursed under his breath, his hands must have gotten more stained than he had thought when he was trying to use the spoon. 

Still not giving up, Tony licked his right hand. If he wanted to be able to lift the bowl without dropping it, he needed to get rid of the excess of puree. During the process, an idea suddenly came to him. 

A bit hesitantly, Tony plunged a hand into the bowl and then took it to his mouth, feeling a bit proud when only some drops of the mush fell on the tray. Ha! Tony Stark didn’t need anyone to do anything for him, one way or another, he would manage to look after himself, no matter how many difficulties he had to overcome. 

Yes, using his hand to feed himself wasn’t the more adult thing to do, his face and clothes ended up getting pretty messy, but that was more preferable than letting Bucky feed him like a baby. 

\- - - -

“Come back here!” Steve yelled. 

A thud let Tony know Steve had fallen down, surely trying to reach him while being crouched down by the bathtub made him lose his balance. Tony didn’t stop or turn back even if he felt a little bit guilty. He was certain Steve had understood him when he had told him he didn’t want to take a stupid bubble bath. He wanted to take a shower. If Steve insisted on ignoring Tony’s request even if he had asked nicely, then Tony was going to ignore his as well. 

Being bathed wasn’t an option anymore, Tony was more than capable of showering himself, he had done it a million of times. Scrubbing his hair and body, that wouldn’t be hard at all, not even in his current state. Therefore, Tony kept toddling as fast as his legs let him until he reached the living room. He would hide inside the empty cabinet of the TV stand – the one he had found out was the perfect hideout – until Steve got so worried he would be so relief to find him that he would agree to whatever Tony asked. 

Unfortunately, the living room wasn’t empty as Tony had thought. Bucky was slouched on the couch flipping through the channels, looking bored. Hadn’t he gone training? 

“Tony?” Bucky asked, voice confused, “What are you doing here? Why are you naked?” 

“No!” Tony said when he saw Bucky getting up from the sofa and walking over him. “Go!”

Bucky blinked in confusion, “huh? What’s going on?” he wondered, squatting to pick up Tony. 

“No!” Tony repeated as he began to squirm.

“Tony!” Steve yelled from the hallway.

“What did you do?” Bucky question accusingly. Tony didn’t bother to answer, he wasn’t going to waste energy he needed to set himself free from Bucky’s embrace. 

“What’s gotten into you? You know better than to run off like that, especially in the bathroom, you could’ve slipped and hurt yourself,” Steve scolded, standing in front of them.

“What happened?” Bucky asked as he handed Tony to Steve with disregard of how much Tony struggled to stay in Bucky’s arms. 

“No!” 

“He doesn’t want to take a bath,” Steve explained, arranging Tony in a way his grip prevented him from falling off his arms, no matter how much he writhed. 

“Why?” 

“I don’t know, I think he wants to take a shower, not a bath,” Steve said, “but I’m sorry, it’s easier to give him a bath, if I give him a shower I’m gonna end up all wet,” he reasoned. Tony kicked him. He wanted to take a shower because he didn’t want anyone to help him. If Steve didn’t help, there was no way he was going to get wet. Why couldn’t Steve get that?

“No! ‘owe!” Tony persisted, kicking Steve harder as he began to walk back to the bathroom.

“Sorry, but the bathtub’s already filled up,” Steve excused, “and stop kicking me.” Tony didn’t. He even began punching. 

 

 

Tony was wailing. With those ear-piercing wails that got on anyone’s nerves not matter how much they tried to ignore them. He had clutched Steve’s t-shirt to refrain him from getting him in the bathtub, but Steve had tickled his armpits and Tony couldn’t help losing his grip. However, Tony wasn’t going to give up so easily, so when Steve had reached for the cloth he was going to use to scrub him, Tony had decided to turned to the thing that hardly ever failed to help him get his way. 

“You can cry all you want, but I’m not taking you out of here until you get a bath,” Steve feigned sternness, Tony could totally see through it. It was a matter of seconds before Steve finally gave in, so Tony didn’t hesitate to reach those high pitched cries that hurt even his ears. “Seriously, there’s no big difference between taking a bath and a shower, would you just stay put, let me bath you and I promise I’ll let you take a shower tomorrow?” Steve pleaded. Tony shook his head energetically while he pointed to the shower with a trembling hand. 

Steve sighed in resignation. 

 

 

“Me!” Tony demanded, pulling the soapy cloth Steve was trying to scrub him with.

“Just let me do it, it’ll be faster,” Steve asked, his voice unsuccessfully trying to hide his annoyance. 

Steve was currently with half of his body inside the shower, which meant he was wetting wet too. Just what he didn’t want to. But it was Steve’s own fault. Tony’s demand to be left alone while he showered had fallen on deaf ears. 

Yes, there had been the fact that Tony had panicked a little bit when too much water fell on his head and he had been about to slip as he tried to get away from the stream of water. Luckily, Steve had good reflexes, and he had caught Tony before he reached the floor. It had been somehow scary (Tony would never get used to getting his head wet) but Tony wasn’t going to be taken off guard for a second time, so he didn’t understand why Steve insisted on staying right beside him. 

“No! ‘imme!” Tony blurted, his grip strong on the cloth. 

“We’ve already wasted a lot of time, let me do it,” Steve asked, water running freely down his face. 

“NOO!” Tony kept denying, smacking Steve’s fore arm with the hand he wasn’t using to pull the cloth. 

“Oh my God! Okay! Here! Do it yourself,” Steve groaned, allowing him to take the cloth.

If Tony hadn’t been that happy for having gotten what he wanted, his brain would have registered that Steve raising his voice like that was not something normal. We would have noticed too that, in spite of doing his best, his body didn’t end as clean as it did when Steve bathed him. 

\- - - -

"You're gonna fall," Bucky warned, keeping an arm stretched out in front of Tony, preventing him from going closer to the edge of the bed. Tony pushed it as hard as he could. "Stop it, I'm not moving it, you're gonna fall," Bucky insisted. Tony thought about biting him, but got rid of the idea right away. His few teeth wouldn't do anything against Bucky’s metal arm. 

Steve and Bucky had no problem with letting Tony sleep with them anymore. They would even take turns to share the bed, one night Tony would sleep in Steve’s bed and the next night in Bucky’s. The problem was that Tony wanted no longer to sleep with them. Now that he was feeling a bit more like an adult, it was just weird to share the bed with his teammates. So, Tony had been attempting to go to his room ever since Bucky had taken him straight to his bed right after dinner. Yes, Tony knew perfectly well his room was now a nursery, and adults didn’t have nurseries, but sleeping there was better than the other option. 

"Moob!" Tony demanded, kicking Bucky. 

"Seriously, what's gotten into you? You were behaving so well a few days ago, and now you started misbehaving again. What's the matter?" Bucky question. Guilt sank in Tony stomach. “Why don’t you tell me what you want instead of hitting me?” he suggested. 

“Doom,” Tony said as he lifted his arm to point at the door. 

“Do you want to go to your room?” Bucky implied. Tony nodded. “Don’t you want to sleep with me?” Tony shook his head. “Well, I brought you with me because you were the one who didn’t want to sleep by yourself, but if you do now, I have no problem with that,” he informed. 

Tony didn’t know why, but there was a tiny part in him that wished Bucky had been a little more reluctant to the idea. 

“Wow! Wait! Sorry, sorry, I forgot, wait!” he exclaimed when Tony began wriggling hard as soon as he scooped him up. Tony might totter and lose balance very easily, but being carried wasn’t an option anymore. 

 

 

“What’s going on here?” Steve asked as he entered the room. Tony raised his arms right away. If Bucky didn’t want to take him out of the crib, Steve might. 

“He doesn’t want to sleep in his crib,” Bucky informed from the corner of the nursery where he had been sat for the last twenty minutes. 

“What is it, baby? Remember you promised you’d sleep in your room,” Steve reminded, moving close to Tony and stretching out his arm to pet his head. The wails prevented Tony from answering. 

“Oh, he doesn’t want to sleep with me either. Actually, he asked me to bring him here,” Bucky informed. 

“Then why’s he crying?” 

“Because he doesn’t want to sleep in the crib.”

“And where do you plan on sleeping then, sweetheart?” Steve questioned. Tony began to recede a little, his focus was now on his attempt to latch onto Steve’s arm. There was no way he was staying in the crib. 

Bucky stood up and walked towards them. “Well, he kept pointing at the floor,” he said, folding his arm over his chest. 

“The floor?” Steve echoed, “Tony, baby, you can’t sleep on the floor.”

“’esh!” Tony disagreed, sniffing.

“No, you can’t. It’s cold and uncomfortable,” Steve reasoned. 

Tony pouted, stubbornly raising his hands to indicate he still wanted to be picked up, “no! up!”

“You’re not sleeping on the floor. You can either sleep in your crib or with us, but not on the floor,” Steve dictated. 

Okay, it had been too soon to stop crying. Even if Tony was determined to behave more like an adult, and wailing was definitely a very childish approach no adults made use of, Tony still didn’t hesitate to use it if that helped him to achieve his demands. 

 

 

If Tony had thought about complaining to Pepper for having bought an irrational number of stuffed animals, he was thinking about thanking her now. 

After bawling for more than thirty minutes, Tony had gotten Bucky to take him out of the crib and put him down on the floor. Sleeping there was a thousand times better than sleeping in the crib. Ten thousand times more uncomfortable as well. It had only taken Tony ten minutes laying there to realize spending an entire night on the floor wasn’t such a good idea. 

“We told you so,” Steve had said, right before trying to put him back in the crib, unsuccessfully. 

Tony grabbed a small teddy bear from under the crib (Tony used to throw so many toys at Bucky and Steve that surely a few remained on the floor, unseen) and used it as a pillow. That was more comfortable, but not enough. That had been when Tony had come up with a brilliant idea: create a nest on the floor with blankets and plushies. 

With babbles and gestures, Tony got his idea across to Bucky, and once the latter had gathered together some blankets and all the stuffed animals there were in the room, Tony had proceeded to arrange them on a corner close to the crib, creating an unconventional, uneven, but astonishingly comfortable mattress. 

Tony flopped down onto his new bed with a huge grin on his face. Steve rolled his eyes at him and left, after all, it was Bucky’s turn to look after Tony during the night. Not that Tony needed to be taken care of. As soon as Steve left, Tony began demanding Bucky to do the same. What could possibly happen to him if he was just going to sleep? Steve and Bucky were too overprotective. 

Bucky ended up leaving the room when it was obvious Tony wouldn’t stop wailing and hitting him. Although, when Tony woke up in the middle of the night, he found Bucky sleeping on the floor next to him, using his arm as a pillow. 

\- - - -

His own private floor. Tony wanted to spend the remaining two days in his private floor, by himself. So far, Steve and Bucky had allowed him to do pretty much everything Tony had wanted. Except for certain things, like changing his own diapers or getting dressed, but Tony couldn’t really reproach anything – no matter how much he had tried, his movements were a bit too uncoordinated and his hands lack the necessary strength to button, and zip things.

Staying in his own private floor, on the other hand, was something he could actually do. The chances of something bad happening to him while he was there were almost inexistent. Unlike his workshop, Tony didn’t keep anything that could be considered dangerous over there. And if by any chance something bad did happen, JARVIS was perfectly capable of notify them.

Even so, Tony got the feeling that that would be one of the things Steve and Bucky would banned him from doing. That was why he currently was trying to climb on a chair he had managed to push near the nightstand, where Steve’s cell phone laid on its surface. Something extremely difficult to do when trying to be as quiet as possible so Steve wouldn’t wake up – that habit they had acquired of sleeping whenever Tony slept came in handy, Tony just had had to be careful not to fall asleep for real. 

If Tony reached the cell phone, he would use it to overwrite some of JARVIS's code, and that order that Steve had given the A.I. to not open any door for Tony unless an adult was with him would no longer be valid. JARVIS might pair up with others when it considered it was for Tony's own good, but not even the A.I. could go against his programming. 

The problem was climbing the chair. Tony had realized it would be impossible for him to do it due to his current height. Good thing that Tony's brain didn't jam up when faced with obstacles, quite the opposite actually. Fifteen minutes later, Tony had built a kind of stair in front of the chair made with pillows and cushions – he would have to thank Pepper for that do, if he had been the one who had decorated the rooms, he would have bought only to pillows for each bed – and, after struggling for a bit to keep his balance, he reached the seat. 

It was a shame that Steve decided to wake up when Tony’s hand was an inch away from grabbing the cell phone. 

 

 

“Tony! Stop that! You’re just going to end up hurting yourself!” Steve scolded right after Tony began kicking the doors of the elevator. Tony threw another kick at the doors. 

“And now the problem is–?” Bucky asked, appearing from the hallway. His tone of voice showing how much he wasn’t impressed by Tony’s behavior. 

“He wants to go to his room and stay there,” Steve informed, his eyes fixed on Tony. Tony stuck his tongue out at him as he kept kicking the door. 

“Then let’s go there,” Bucky suggested, flopping down onto the couch next to Steve, “I mean, you can cook lunch in Tony’s kitchen, can’t you? We can spend the afternoon there.”

“He wants to be there by himself.”

“Oh.” 

“I took him there because I thought he wanted to look for something, but once we were there, he wanted to kick me out, and… Tony! Stop!” Steve cut off himself to scold Tony again, startling him, not enough to make him stop, but enough to make him flip Steve off. 

 

 

“I’m not moving,” Steve assured when Tony kept treating his knees as if they were a soccer ball. Steve had sat down leg-crossed right in front of the elevator, preventing Tony from hitting its doors. “I don’t want you to hurt yourself.”

If that was true, Steve would let him ride the elevator to his private floor. Tony had been kicking the door because Steve hadn’t allowed him to do that. 

“Moob!” Tony ordered.

“No, you’re not going to stay alone up there. What’s gonna happen when you get hungry? And when you need a change? Whether you like it or not, you’re stuck with us,” Steve pointed out. He might be right, but at this point, Tony was too angry to hear reason.

Why couldn’t they understand he needed to be away from them? Why couldn’t they see how weird this dependence was? In two days Tony would be an adult, and there would be no excuse to be with them anymore. So, why not speed up the unavoidable? If he had to throw a huge tantrum to get what he wanted, Tony was more than willing to do that. He knew Steve and Bucky didn’t deserve that treatment, but his desire of being alone exceeded the remorse he felt for being unfair to them. 

“Jesus, Tony, really, what’s the matter with you?” Steve questioned, exasperated, “I know you feel frustrated, I know you want this to be over, and thanks God it soon will.” 

Tony didn’t know why, but that last comment had somehow stung. 

“But it’s not over yet, and until it is, you’re still under our care whether you like it or not,” Steve continued, placing a hand over Tony’s abdomen to refrain him from going closer to his knees, “I know you hate the fact that we haven’t allowed you to do everything you want, that we’ve been bossing you around, but you know what? I don’t care if you get mad at me because of that, and I’m sure Bucky doesn’t either, we prefer to deal with these tantrums than dealing with an injure or something worse caused by your stubbornness,” he proceeded, trying to keep his fingers away from Tony’s mouth. Steve didn’t have a metal hand, so it was probable that Tony could get Steve to free him if he bit him very hard, “So, you can continue hitting me, kicking me, yelling at me and insulting me all you want, but I’m not letting you go and do something that might be harmful for you.”

“It no!” Tony alleged. 

“It might, and that’s enough for me to not let you do it,” Steve declared. 

“Moob!”

“Seriously, what’s gotten into you? I thought we’d already gotten past this. I thought you’d already understood our actions weren’t meant to make you miserable. That was why you started to behave very well just a few weeks ago, wasn’t it? Because you finally understood that,” Steve said, sounding so disappointed that Tony couldn’t help feeling guilty. Unfortunately, he couldn’t afford feeling that way right now. So, he restarted his attempts to kick him. Steve took a long, long breath. “You know, I think I know why you’re acting out like this again, and you know what? We’re going to miss you too,” he assured, making Tony stop short of kicking him. “Yes, you’ve been a real handful sometimes, you little monster,”

“But you’re our little monster,” Bucky interrupted, squatting down next to Steve. 

That couldn’t be true. Who on his right mind would miss him? Nobody ever had, except maybe for Pepper and Rhodey – and there still was a tiny part in Tony that doubted that. How could they tell him such a lie? Tony could perfectly notice how both of them had started to get annoyed by his behavior. Relief was the only thing Steve and Bucky would feel once Tony had been changed into his adult self. 

He might have said that to make Tony stop his tantrum. Yes, that must be it. 

Tony looked up at them, determined to continue his tantrum until he got what he wanted. Steve’s and Bucky’s sad smile vanished all his determination. There was no way they could fake such expression, there was no way they could see that sorrowful without being genuine. To Tony’s dismay, his vision became blurry as tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. He fisted his hands and bit gently yet firm on his quivering bottom lip in a lame attempt to refrain from crying, his body already shaking slightly because of the sobs he choked back. 

“Come here, baby boy,” Steve called, grabbing Tony by the wrist and pulling him. Tony tried to resist for a second, but Steve’s hold was firm. By the time Tony was pressed against his chest, strangled sobs were already erupting from his lungs. 

“It’s okay, doll, we’re here,” Bucky soothed, a reassuring hand kept on his back. 

Of all the scenarios Tony had pictured, feeling sad for going back to be an adult and missing Steve and Bucky as parents were not one of them. Though he somehow had come to terms with that over the last week. However, Steve and Bucky missing him back, well, Tony wouldn’t have even dared to dream of that.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **THE END!**
> 
>  
> 
> No, just kidding.
> 
> I woke up on the wrong side of the bed once more, and the fact that I checked my bank account in the morning didn't help my mood at all. It turned out that my bank charge me twice for a purchase I did online, and while they verify if it was their mistake indeed, I have to pay for it anyway, which means I won't have enough money to eat three times a day (well, I could, but that would mean I had to pay interests, and I do _not_ want to do that. Freaking banks.
> 
> Anyway, that just made me feel like doing nothing (related to work XD) so I focused on writting to distract myself. 
> 
> I think next chapter will be the last one. I already started writting it, so I hope it doesn't take me a lot of time to post (though I don't promise anything n_n').


	14. Chapter 0

Everything had gone dark. Tony blinked several times, but he still couldn’t see anything. What the hell was going on? Did that purple light had made him blind? 

Fucking Loki, what the fuck had he hit him with? As soon as Tony figured out what the hell had happened and solved it, he was going to host an intervention for Thor. This Loki situation had to stop once and for all, Thor couldn’t continue letting his brother get away with everything in the hope he would come to his senses and rectify his path. That was never going to happen, and the team had to help him realize that. 

“JARVIS, can you check the systems? I think that freaking light might have damaged some of circuits,” Tony asked. There was no answer. “JARVIS? Are you there?... JARVIS? JARVIS, activate the emergency power,” he tried once more, “JARVIS?”

Okay, this was no good. The suit could get pretty damaged, but JARVIS would be there with him until the end. Perhaps that was why Tony could remain calm even if the situation wasn’t favorable at all. 

“JARVIS!!” Tony kept insisting.

Tony tried to move his arms so he could take the helmet off but he couldn’t. What the hell? Even if the power had totally run out, Tony was supposed to be able to move. It wasn’t like he was paralyzed, he could move his fingers and toes, but there was something in front of him that prevented him from stretching his arms and legs. Had he been tied up? When? He didn’t remember passing out, though Tony didn’t know it something like that could be remembered. 

“JARVIS!! Anybody!! What the fuck is going on?!” Tony shouted, though he knew he shouldn’t have. If he had been kidnapped, the best he could do was keep quiet and analyze the situation so he could think of a way to escape. But his gut was telling him that was not the case, that he was still inside his armor, he was just stuck. 

Had he knocked down a building and the debris that had fallen on him was refraining him from moving? That could actually be possible. Maybe after that purple light hit him, Tony lost conscious for a second and that was why he couldn’t remember crashing. In that case, he needed to scream as loud as he could, so the others could hear him.

“Guys!! Hey!! I’m right here!!” Tony cried out, feeling more desperate than he would like to admit. He _hated_ confined places, and if someone didn’t take him out of there soon, he was afraid he was going to have a panic attack. He _hated_ panic attacks. “GUYS!!” he continued yelling, and kept quiet right after so he could hear if someone was coming closer. Or that had been his intention, because in that precise moment, a baby started crying.

Why was a baby crying? Oh holy shit, had he fallen on a daycare center or a hospital? No, no, no, please don’t let that be the case. Tony knew people from office buildings evacuate as soon as there was a threat of attack nearby, but maybe evacuating kids, and especially sick kids, was more complicated and they couldn’t make it on time. Buildings, Tony could pay, but human lives…

“Tony?!” Tony heard Steve calling for him, and he couldn’t put into words how relieved he felt.

“I’m here!” Tony answered. 

“Hold on! We’re taking you out!” Steve informed, and Tony wished he would hurry up, because the wails of the baby were getting on his nerves very badly. He needed to go out from wherever he was and see for himself the damaged he had caused. 

All of a sudden, Tony felt how the ground under him began to shake acutely, and the cries intensified as well. It just seemed forever until the dark finally vanished. Everything became so bright that Tony had to close his eyes for a minute. He hadn’t gone blind, those were fantastic news. 

“Tony?” Bruce called him, and Tony figured it was time to open his eyes and let them know he was okay. “Is that you?”

Who else was it going to be? Really, sometimes Bruce amazed him, how could such a clever person asked so dumb questions? He opened his eyes, a sarcastic remark ready to be blurted, but died in his throat when he looked up at everyone. Why did they look so big? Was it because he was lying down?

“So this is what Loki meant with a _little_ problem?” Clint commented just as Bruce leaned on and picked Tony up. How was that possible? Bruce didn’t own a super-strength like Steve or Bucky, at least not when he was in his human form, so how could he have been able to lift him that easily? What was going on?

“Is it really you Tony?” Bruce repeated, eyes fixed on him, his expression of pure confusion. Just as everyone else’s. 

Tony looked around him, disconcerted. He was cold, that damn baby seemed to have calmed down a little but he or she was still crying, the fact that everyone’s eyes were fixed on him and that was making Tony more and more uncomfortable. Steve bended forward until his face was right in front of his, and, God be damned, it wasn’t Tony’s imagination, Steve did look bigger than usual. 

“Tony?” Steve called, and without warning, he placed a hand on Tony’s head, ruffling his hair. Who the hell he thought he was? A freaking dog? 

Annoyed, Tony reached for Steve’s hand and pushed it away. Or tried to do so. Steve smiled at him, and after ruffling his hair for a couple of times more, he moved his hand away and straightened up. Tony wished Steve hadn’t done that, because right then he saw himself reflected in his shield, and he could swear his heart stopped for a second.

The damn crying baby was him. 

\- - - -

"You peed on Bruce," Clint mocked as he poked his stomach. Tony threw a punch at him, but his arm was too short to reach him. 

"Would you please stop that?" Steve demanded, and Tony would have been grateful if he hadn't been already mad at him for insisting on keeping him sat down on his lap. Tony had struggled to get free, but not matter how much he had pushed, he hadn't been able to move the arm that Steve kept around his waist. 

"You know, you were a pretty cute baby," Clint continue, ignoring Steve, "a shame you didn't age well,” he grinned. Tony scowled and threw a kick at him. Well, he tried and failed, because his legs were tangled in the t-shirt Steve had swaddled him with. Tony had been naked and he hadn't even realized that until the incident Clint was mocking him about happened. 

"Clint!" Steve scolded. 

"What? It's not like he can understand me," Clint defended himself. 

"Actually, I think he can," Bucky said from the back of the Quinjet. 

"How could he? He's a baby! Babies don't really understand adults," Clint reasoned, positioning his head at Tony's level, "isn't that true, you puffy-cheeks tyke?” he said, puffing his own cheeks. Tony spit on him. "Hey! Why did you do that for?!" 

"Okay, that's enough," Phil said, standing up and grabbing Clint from the forearm. "Baby or not, you shouldn't bother him," he scolded, dragging Clint to their seats. Tony stuck his tongue at him, smiling mockingly. 

"Do you really think he can understand us?" Bruce questioned, kneeling in front of him. Tony felt his face getting hot. The wet spot on Bruce's shirt hadn't dried out yet. 

"Yes," Bucky answered, "look at him, he looks clearly annoyed, babies don't look annoyed. And if they are annoyed, they cry," he pointed out. 

"Well, he was crying just some minutes ago," Bruce commented. 

Tony's cheeks felt even hotter. Yes, he was crying, but he hadn't even realized he was and couldn't really understand why he couldn't stop. It had been until Steve had held him against chest and padded his back that the wails had ceased. 

"Can you follow me finger?" Bruce asked, showing Tony his index finger and moving it from side to side. Tony followed it with his teary eyes. "Can you grab it?" Tony did, he reached for Bruce's finger with his hand, and he couldn't help freaking out a little when he saw how small and chubby it was. "Now, can you pull it?" 

"Quit it already! I can perfectly understand you!!" Tony snapped, pushing Bruce's hand away. "Instead of doing your stupid experiments, why don't you all go and bring Loki so he can change me back!" he demanded, slapping Steve’s arm for emphasis. Bruce looked at him with a bewildered expression on his face. 

Tony looked around and found the same expression on everyone's faces. What the hell was wrong with them? 

"Didn't you hear me? Wipe that damn look off your faces and do something! Where's Thor? He's freaking brother did this, maybe he knows how to revert it," Tony insisted, getting only stares as answer. 

"Okay, I have to admit he's cute," Natasha said. Cute? Cute?! Tony was there getting more and more frustrated by the minute, and all Natasha could say was that he was cute? Seriously, what the hell? 

"Take that comment and shove it-" Tony stopped short, because, God be damned, he was fucking babbling. 

\- - - -

“It’s okay Tony, nothing happened,” Steve soothed, bouncing him a little with the intention of calming him down. “Shhh, you’re okay.”

Tony had fallen down, and he had been crying ever since. 

When the Quinjet landed on the Tower, Steve had stood up with him is his arms. What the hell was Steve thinking? The fact that Tony had considerably shrunk didn’t mean he had to be carried. He began to complain and writhe as hard as he could, until Steve had gotten the picture and had put him down on the floor. His legs trembled a little, but Tony didn’t think it was a big deal, his arms and hands also felt kind of weird when he moved them. Tony took two steps slowly, trying and achieving to keep the balance, but by the third one, his legs just gave out without any warning, and Tony fell flat on his face. 

And fuck, it had really hurt. Tony had gotten beat up several times, he had had broken bones, he had experienced several concussions, but any of those things had hurt as much as that fall had. What the hell? That didn’t make any sense! And the crying? Tony couldn’t remember the last time he had an injure painful enough to make him cry. But now, he was literally bawling. Tony didn’t know what made him feel worse, the fact that it took him several minutes to realize he was the one wailing or that Steve had to soothe him so Tony could calm down because he wasn’t able to do it by himself. 

“So, you’re telling me that baby Roger has in his arms is Stark?” Fury asked from the other side of the screen.

“I’m afraid so,” Bruce assured. 

“What the hell happened?” Fury wanted to know, his eyes fixed on Tony, skeptical. 

“He found the fountain of eternal youth,” Clint said, a big grin on his face. “We can give you directions, you look like you could use it too.” 

“Stop messing around Barton, this is serious!” Fury scolded, glaring at him. Phil jabbed Clint with the elbow. “Stark has plenty of enemies, and they won’t hesitate to attack if they find out his current state! So tell me what the hell happened so we can start thinking how to get him back to normal!”

“It was Loki, he did this to Tony,” Natasha informed with a deadpan expression. 

“That bastard and his twisted sense of humor,” Fury muttered, “And where the hell is he now? Tell me you caught him and you’re already trying to revert whatever he cast on Tony.”

“He ran away,” Bruce replied, and Tony felt the blood drained from his face. 

They hadn’t caught Loki? He had run away? What the hell was Tony going to do now? Tony didn’t want to stay like this! 

“Thor already went after him,” Bucky informed, “To Asgard.”

“And why the fuck didn’t you go with him?! The only thing Thor’s going to do when he finds Loki is tug his ears!” Tony screeched, turning around in Steve’s arm enough to see everyone. “I wanna talk to Jane right now! She must know a way to go to Asgard. If you don’t want to go after Loki, I will!” he demanded.

“Is he trying to talking?” Fury asked, blinking several times.

“I think so,” Bruce guessed. 

“So he can understand us?”

“Yes, the problem is that we can understand him,” Bruce confessed, looking at Tony pityingly. 

“Jane! I wanna talk to Jane! I need to get ahold of Thor,” Tony insisted, making every sign he could think of that helped him communicate his message. 

“Yes, we know you’re mad Tony,” Bruce said, taking Tony’s hand in his and rubbing a thumb against it, “take it easy.”

“Thor! I wanna talk to Thor!” Tony persisted, talking slowly and articulating the words as much as he could. 

“Do you want to talk to Thor?” Steve asked, and Tony could have kissed him out of happiness if, well, it hadn’t been Steve. 

“Yes!” Tony agreed, nodding effusively. 

“How the hell did you understand that?” Clint asked, shocked, “there were just babbles and gabbles!” 

Steve shrugged, looking impressed himself, “I don’t know.”

\- - - -

“Tony, stop it, you’re not going anywhere,” Bucky scolded, trying to keep him still on his lap.

“Yes, I am!” Tony shrieked. 

“No, you’re not. So quit it already,” Bucky ordered, tightening his embrace around his waist. 

“Yes! I can’t stay here twiddling my thumbs while the only hope I have to go back to normal is a guy who can’t admit his brother is a lost cause!” Tony complained, squirming as hard as he could. If he had managed to get free from Steve’s grip, doing the same with Bucky’s shouldn’t be that hard either. 

“And what exactly do you think you’ll do?” Bucky argued, “I know you don’t like the idea, but there’s nothing we can do, we have to stay put until we hear from Thor. He promised to contact us as soon as he found out something.”

“No! I wanna go!”

“Seriously, I can’t understand a word he says, how come you both can?” Clint exclaimed. 

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s because of the serum,” Steve reckoned, “I mean, I don’t understand all the words he’s saying, just some of them, but that’s enough to know what he wants to say,” he said, scratching the top of his head. 

“Well, I guess that decides who’s going to take care of him,” Clint stated, reaching for Tony’s foot. Tony tried to kick him immediately. 

“Would you stop upsetting him more, please?” Bucky scolded, pushing Clint’s hand away. 

“Jeez! I wasn’t doing anything!” Clint pouted. Natasha threw a cushion to his face, “hey! What was that for?!” Natasha raised an eyebrow. 

“I guess he’s right, we should be the ones who look after him,” Steve agreed, turning his head towards Bucky, “we seem to be the only ones who can understand him. Besides, what Fury said made sense, what if someone finds out and wants to take advantage of the situation? We need to protect him.”

“I don’t need to be protected, I can take care of myself,” Tony argued, hands slapping Bucky’s arm. Who do they think they were? Taking decisions about him without taking his opinion into account!

“We should inform Pepper,” Steve commented, “I don’t know if he had some business to attend in his company, but I’m pretty sure that’s not going to be possible now.”

“I already informed Ms. Potts of what happened,” JARVIS said, “she’s on her way here.”

“Why the hell did you do that for JARVIS?” Tony complained. The A.I. hadn’t listened to him when Tony had asked to call Jane, and this, _this_ JARVIS could do. 

\- - - -

“Tony, please stay still,” Steve pleaded, a hand kept over his stomach to prevent him from rolling over. Tony didn’t, he even began to squirm harder. Why did Steve have to be so freakishly strong?

“No!” Tony yelled when he Pepper unfolding a diaper. 

“I know you don’t want to, Tony, but I’m afraid you need them,” Steve noted, caressing his head with the hand he wasn’t using to keep him in place.

“No, I don’t!” Tony denied.

“You do. You’ve lost control of your bladder twice already,” Steve recalled, “I know you’re not doing it on purpose, but I think you can’t help it either.”

Yes, Tony didn’t deny it. He had peed on Bruce a few hours ago, and then, the same had happened with Bucky. Though that didn’t mean Tony couldn’t control his bladder. Bucky had been hugging him to tightly that Tony was sure the wrong spot had been pressed, and Bruce, well, Tony had been so stunned and shocked that he couldn’t really remember. 

“NO!” Tony insisted when Pepper took both his ankles and lift his hips a little, just enough to slip the diaper under him. Tony kicked trying to get rid of Pepper’s grip, but it wasn’t possible, and, to his horror, tears started to well up in the corners of his eyes. Was he going to cry again? What the hell was wrong with this body? Tony was so angry he wanted to insult, kick, hit, bite and so many other things, but he definitely didn’t want to cry!

“Shhh, it’s okay Tony, take it easy,” Steve soothed, Tony slapped his arm as an answer. 

“You see, it’s not that difficult,” Pepper instructed, “you just have to open the diaper and slide the back half under his butt. The back half is the one with the tabs on either side of it. Then, take the front half by the side tabs and bring it up to his waist and fasten it,” she continued, doing every step a bit slowly since Tony refused to stay still. “And make sure is not too tight or too loose,” she warned, patting Tony gently on his now diapered side. 

“Okay, I think I got it,” Steve assured, finally taking his hand away from Tony.

“I’m sure you did, it’s not that difficult. And it’s going to be easier if this little guy here doesn’t move that much,” Pepper commented, leaning over to pressed a kiss on Tony’s cheek. Tony pushed her face away immediately, and managed to kick her chest, “Ow!”

“Tony! Don’t do that!” Steve scolded, and Tony couldn’t have cared less. He was trying to sit up with all his might, from that perspective he couldn’t see the tabs he was definitely going to unfasten so he could take the damn diaper off.

“It’s alright, I guess he’s mad,” Pepper smiled sympathetically. 

“Mad or not, he knows better than to hit people,” Steve stated. Tony kept ignoring him, all his concentration on trying to reach the tabs. Really, what the hell was wrong with his body? Why didn’t his arms moved the way he instructed them to move?

“Come here, cutie pie,” Pepper said, sliding her hands under his armpits and lifting him. Before Tony could register what was happening, Pepper had reached for a garment he hadn’t noticed it was there, and she manipulated him into it. “There, all done,” she informed, and Tony felt his face burn when he looked down at the piece of clothing he was wearing. “I bought some onesies as well as the diapers, I’ll leave everything here. I know this little guy isn't very modest, but he really shouldn't go around naked.”

“Thanks,” Steve said.

“Later you’re going get delivered other things I’m pretty sure you’re going be needing, and don’t worry Tony, I’m made sure nobody knows what’s inside the boxes, we don’t want anyone to find out about this, do we?” she asked, but Tony’s attention was focused on the snaps of that stupid garment, his frustration raising by the minute as he couldn’t unsnap the damn things. 

“Take this fucking thing off! NOW!” Tony demanded, kicking his legs, getting surprised and ashamed by how pitiful his voice had sounded. It didn’t take long before Tony began bawling in frustrating.

Steve scooped him up from Pepper’s lap and held him against his chest once more. How the hell had this day turned out like this? This morning, Tony had woken up on the couch of his workshop, had fixed himself a cup of his favorite coffee and had continued with the project he had left unfinished the day before. When the alarm to assemble had gone off, Tony had even gotten excited, there was nothing like kicking some enemies asses to get distracted and clear his mind. 

And now, he was barely twenty-nine inches tall, his movements were very clumsy and his legs couldn’t support his own weight for more than a couples of seconds. And if that weren’t enough, he was crying on Steve’s shoulder unable to stop, wearing a stupid diaper he apparently needed and a freaking baby’s outfit which Pepper kept saying looked cute on him. 

“It’s okay Tony, it’s okay,” Steve cooed, patting his padded bottom rhythmically, something that made Tony feel just worse. How on earth could he find that action soothing? The sound Steve’s hand caused just reminded Tony of the existence of the diaper. “You must be tired, why don’t you try to sleep a little?” he suggested, and Tony would have told him to shove his suggestions up his ass if it hadn’t been for the fact that he actually felt tired. 

Perhaps Tony would wake up the following day and find out everything had been a pretty bad dream.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, as you already figured, this is not the last chapter. I know I said the next chapter was going to be the last one, but I was writing the last chapter, and there was going to be a kinf od flashback there, which turned out to be kind of long, so, before I knew it, I was writing a total different thing. At the end I decided to have like a prequel.
> 
> Perhaps, I should have post it in a different story, and create like a series, but I decided to post it here. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Also, in this chapter I decided to make Tony's speech kind of "clear" because I wanted to make emphasis on the fact that he wasn't aware of the fact that he couldn't really talk, but babble.  
> And yes, now the next one would be the last one :p.
> 
> Saw any mistakes? please let me now :)


	15. Chapter 14

"Fuck!" Tony cursed, flopping onto the bed while his hands kept struggling with the damn straps of the overalls. 

Of all the stupid clothes Steve had to choose from, why the hell had he picked fucking overalls? A t-shirt would have surely been easier to take off! Even a onesie! But no, Steve had to dress him with the item of clothing most difficult to unbuckle! 

"Tony? Are you okay? Do you need some help?" Steve insisted from the other side of the door. If Tony hadn't needed help the last five times Steve had asked that question, what did make Steve believe that he did now? 

"No! Go away!" Tony snapped at him. 

Did Steve really expect him to say yes? Did he really think Tony would let him enter his room? He looked embarrassingly stupid! The plaid overalls with the stamp of Mickey Damn Mouse on the front might have looked cute on him when his body was still of an infant, but the picture given by an adult wearing shorts that barely reached his thighs was a far cry from cute. And if that wasn’t bad enough, under the overalls Tony had a onesie that was helping to keep a diaper in place. A wet diaper. 

Steve was crazy if he thought Tony would allow him to see him like that. 

“Stupid. Piece. Of. Shit!” Tony said under his breath, emphasizing each word with an angry stamp of his foot. Twenty minutes, Tony had been trying to get undressed for more than twenty minutes! What the hell?! Yes, his limbs felt funny and they didn’t move as Tony commanded them, but this was too much!

Stupid son of a bitch! Loki had done this on purpose! When he had turned him into a baby, Tony had found himself naked as his suit hadn't shrunk with him. So why the hell had Tony kept his baby's clothes now that he was changed back? Loki must have sensed somehow that Tony was going to kick his scrawny ass as soon as he had the chance. Therefore, he had had to do something to prevent that. Tony wouldn’t have cared to pounce on Loki while being naked, but while wearing a diaper? No way. 

"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Tony kept cursing. 

Changing his clothes and returning to the communal living room, that had been the plan. Besides wanting to get even with Loki for the mess he had caused, Tony also wanted to know why he had done such a thing. Tony had gotten distracted, Loki could have easily defeated and taken him as a hostage among many other things, then why had he decided to turn him into a baby? Why not turning him into something else? 

A shame his hands refused to cooperate and now the twenty minutes had turned to twenty-five. At this rate, by the time Tony managed to get rid of the stupid overalls, Loki would be back in Asgard. 

"Tony, I'm coming in!" Steve announced. Of course Steve wouldn’t go away even if Tony had begun ignoring his knocks. 

“NO!” 

With a speed that could have been easily mistaken for teleportation, Tony ran towards the door and leaned heavily against it so that Steve didn’t open it. Tony’s strength wasn’t a match for Steve’s, but that action would surely deter Steve from pushing the door open, afraid he might send Tony to the floor. 

“Tony, please, I just want to see if you’re okay,” Steve pleaded, applying just enough force to refrain Tony from closing the door completely, “it’s only me, nobody else is coming. Bucky’s downstairs making sure of that.”

“I’m okay,” Tony lied, his legs already trembling like jelly. Tony knew it was a matter of minutes before they finally gave out, just as it had happened when he had run to his private floor to hide from everyone. He had fallen twice to support his body, his left knee was still throbbing. 

“Tony, I’m not leaving until I see for myself how you are,” Steve warned. According to Steve, Tony was insufferably stubborn, but he was pretty stubborn himself too. “So please, move aside if you don’t want me to knock you down.”

“What part of–,” Tony couldn’t finish saying. In that precise moment his legs decided they had worked too much already and the only thing Tony could do was closing his eyes to wait for the inevitable bump he would feel. 

But this knees never reached the floor. Tony felt an arm embracing his waist right when he was falling, and then, said arm was used to drag him to the bed. 

“How are you feeling?” Steve asked once both of them were seated on the mattress. 

“Annoyed,” Tony said with an expression on his face that would hopefully make Steve realize he was the cause of his annoyance. Tony tried his best not to swat Steve’s hands away. Why the hell was Steve checking all his body? It wasn’t like they had been in a battle. His body had just gotten bigger, what kind of injure was Steve expecting to see? “Would you stop it already?! I told you I’m fine!” he growled.

“Sorry, I just wanted to make sure,” Steve apologized. His expression softened into relief. “I thought there was something wrong, you sure were cursing a lot.” 

“You saw me, you verified I’m okay, now leave,” Tony hurried to say, pushing him. He knew perfectly well what the next question would be, and he was not answering that. 

“Hey, wait! First tell me what you were cursing about.” There it was. 

“None of your business, go!” Tony ordered, and he groaned loudly when Steve grabbed both his wrists to prevent him from keeping pushing him. 

“I’m not leaving until you tell me,” Steve declared.

Tony stamped his feet. “Oh my God! You can’t order me around! I’m not a baby anymore!” he exclaimed, and his annoyance increased when Steve chuckled, “What’s so damn funny?!”

“I guess making a fuss for everything wasn’t a trait that belonged just to baby Tony,” Steve commented, lips curved slightly, giving him a genuine air of nostalgia. Tony could literally feel his face going red as something low in his belly twisted. 

“I never made a fuss out of anything!” Tony assured, twisting this arms to free them from Steve’s grip, “You two were too overprotective it was suffocating, I needed to make myself heard somehow!”

Steve raised an eyebrow. “Yes, because not allowing a baby to drink coffee or operate heavy machinery is being overprotective.” He let go of Tony’s wrists. Tony squinted his eyes at him, not having a comeback for that comment. Now that he thought about it, not even he would let a baby get near a drill, and Tony had been told several times that he wasn’t exactly a very responsible adult. 

“So?”

“So what?” 

“Are you gonna tell me what you were cursing about, or would I have to tickle you until you tell me?” Steve asked, smiling in a way there wasn’t the slightest doubt we meant what he had said. Tony was not taking any chances, the images that his mind started to conjure up of Steve blowing raspberries on his abdomen were mortifying enough. 

Tony looked down at his lap. “I can’t unbutton these stupid things,” he mumbled.

“Come again?” 

“I can’t unbuckle these damn things,” Tony repeated a little bit louder, hands over the buckles. Out of the corner of his eyes, Tony could see how Steve’s smile grew bigger. Though there wasn’t the slightest mockery in it. 

“Come here, let me help you,” Steve said, reaching for the loops. 

Tony felt the heat radiating from his cheeks during all the process. Flashbacks of Steve dressing and undressing his baby-self flooded Tony's mind, and Tony notice with embarrassment that things didn’t feel any different from back then and now.

****

**______________**

“Tony, hold onto the handrails, please,” Bucky ordered from the other side of the gym. Tony groaned and glared at him as he did what he had been told. It was that, or having Bucky standing right beside him. 

All the lack of exercise from his baby counterpart had wreaked havoc in his current body, and Tony had experience some difficulties controlling his movements. 

Within the following days after his transition, Tony had barely been able to stand up, his legs wobbled tremendously and failed to support his weight for more than a few minutes at a time. And if Tony tried to walk, they somehow tangled up and he ended up falling down or colliding with every piece of furniture in the Tower. Although the latter might be caused by his distorted view of the space, Tony had gotten too used to everything around him being bigger than him, so now he was struggling a little with judging distances correctly too. 

At the beginning, Steve and Bucky had offered to help him, but by the second time Steve had picked Tony up from the floor one of the times he had fallen down and had placed him on his lap so he could rub whatever part of the body Tony had hurt, Tony had forbidden them to provide any kind of assistance – though Tony hadn’t been able to get them to stop prowling around checking on him. Walking on a treadmill was better. Tony wouldn’t crash into anything and, if by any chance he lost balance, he could always hold onto the handrails. 

“Yes, hold onto the handrails,” Clint echoed, materializing from behind and standing right in front of Tony, “You’re doing it marvelously, now, come to daddy,” he said with a grin on his face, motioning for Tony to ‘come here’ with his hands.

“I told you to stop!” Tony barked, throwing his water bottle at him. Clint dodged it effortlessly. 

“Hey! I’m just trying to help!” Clint complained, taking mock offence.

“Clint!” Bucky yelled, making Clint shudder, “Get out!” 

“What? Why? I’m training too!” Clint argued.

“No, you’re not. I told you to stop bothering him and you didn’t, so, go,” Bucky said, the frown on his face showing he was very serious. Clint pouted, but he did walk away from the treadmill, murmuring something about Bucky being a total spoilsport until he finally left the gym. Tony got the feeling he should stand up for himself instead of letting Bucky do it, but ran the risk of sounding too whiney, and that would just incite more baby jokes. 

“You can relax now, doll,” Bucky said with a genuine smile on his face before he turned around and focused on his own training. Tony refrained himself from complaining about the term of endearment used, knowing it would be futile. Those endearments tended to slip out every now and then, and both Steve and Bucky argued it was extremely hard to break the habit from one day to the next after months of calling him by them.

Tony sighed heavily as focused on the movements of his legs. The panel indicated he had been walking for more than thirty minutes and he hadn’t stumbled not even once. That made him feel strangely proud, every passing day he could walk further and stay stood for more time, if he continued like this, he would be able to walk normally in a couple of weeks at the most, maybe less. Who knew, he might even be able to jog a little right now. 

Feeling confident, Tony pressed the button that would increase the speed, hoping Bucky didn’t realize what he was doing. It wasn’t like Tony was going to run a marathon, though Bucky would surely look at it that way. Carefully, he passed from walking fast to jogging slowly, hands holding onto the handrails to avoid falling down, but soon it turned pretty obvious that that wasn’t a good idea while jogging. Arms were supposed to move when jogging or running, so Tony let go, ignoring that little voice in his head – that suspiciously sounded very much like Bucky’s – telling him he shouldn’t do that. 

Tony should have definitely listened to that little voice, because it was a matter of seconds before he got tangled up with his own legs and his body dropped to the belt, where he landed with a thud. If that had been all it wouldn’t have been that bad, but the moving belt spit him off the rear of the treadmill, where he landed on the floor with a second thud. And it hurt. 

“Tony!” Bucky yelled as he ran towards him. While Tony’s head was still throbbing, Bucky sat down on the floor, dragged Tony over and plopped him into the empty space of his crossed legs, cradling him. “Where did you hit?” he asked, scanning Tony’s face. 

“I’m okay,” Tony lied, struggling to get free. Bucky’s arm surrounded his waist in a way Tony knew he wasn’t going to let him go. 

“What the hell were you trying to do?!” Bucky scolded, raising his tone of voice, though he sounded more worried than angry. “Why on earth did you try to run?!”

“Thought I could,” Tony murmured, feeling a bit dumb. 

“You don’t want us to be all over you, but every time we turn around, you go and do something like this. I swear you’re gonna give your dada and me a heart attack one of these days,” Bucky continued as he scanned Tony’s body, making him feel remorseful and embarrassed. He opened his mouth as if to protest for the way he had referred to Steve, but he figured it wouldn’t be a good idea now. “Tell me where you hit,” he ordered, and Tony took his hand to the left side of his face, which Bucky began to massage right away to ease away the pain. 

Tony shouldn’t really be sitting on another adult’s legs, yet alone let said adult comfort him, but he was in pain, and angry, and he could really use some cuddles because this situation was proving to be enormously frustrating. Perhaps tomorrow he would remind Bucky and Steve about their promise to leave him alone, but right now, he was comfortable where he was. 

****

**______________**

“And do you remember that day? The first day Steve and Bucky left Tony unsupervised while he took a nap?” Clint asked with his mouth full of lasagna, “the little genius thought he was small enough to escape through the bars and he got stuck. Steve totally freaked out and rubbed some baby oil on his ears and face trying to release him, and Bucky ended up splitting the bars to get him out of there,” he finished saying, swallowing fast so he could laugh without being worried about choking. 

"Did you really do that?" Pepper asked, amused. Tony nodded slightly, his face uncomfortably hot. 

"Or what about the time he painted on the walls? Even if they looked like doodles, you could totally tell those were curse words," Clint continued before taking a long sip of soda, "Steve spent all afternoon scrubbing the walls trying to get the crayon off the wall."

Pepper chuckled, "what did you do that for?" 

"They wouldn't listen to me!" Tony exclaimed.

"Well, you didn't expect them to let a baby do whatever he wanted, did you?" Pepper reasoned, "I can't imagine a baby with your very questionable eating and sleeping habits."

Tony folded his arms over his chest a bit too dramatically and furrowed his brow in annoyance. He was starting to get fed up with this new hobby of Clint of telling everybody anecdotes relating the things he did when he was a baby. It was nobody’s business if his baby-self had gotten stuck under random furniture trying to hide from Steve and Bucky, or if he had peed in Bucky’s face a few times when he was changing him until Bucky learned not to place himself right in front of him, or if a thunder in the middle of the night had made him burst into tears, or if he had gotten diarrhea the few times he had tried to eat anything but baby food. Yet, Thor, Fury, Phil and now Pepper knew all that and more! 

It was obvious none of them would forget what had happened from one day to the next. Tony knew from the beginning there would be plenty of jokes and comments, because he had to face it, some of the things his baby counterpart had done were pretty funny, especially if those things were seen from another person’s perspective. But if the constant jokes were added to Steve and Bucky’s supposed inability to stop behaving fatherly towards him, and to the fact Tony hadn’t been able to go back to his routine because his body still couldn’t get used to the drastic change it had experienced, well, it was just too much. 

“Oh my god, and the dinosaur costume Steve dressed him up with! I don’t know how you two came up with the great idea that he’d like to go trick-or-treating on Halloween. He didn’t even want to step out into the street at all,” Clint commented.

“Well, all kids like doing that, and Tony had a very sweet tooth, so we figured he might like going for candies,” Bucky defended himself, looking at Tony apologetically. Tony’s frown deepened.

“And did they go?” Pepper asked, the food on her plate already forgotten as the chat seemed to have caught all her attention and interest. 

“Shut up,” Tony hissed, voice so quiet that no one seemed to have heard.

“Of course they didn’t, Tony would cry every time Steve or Bucky proposed to go out,” Clint recounted, taking more lasagna to his mouth, “Oh, that was the time he got stuck…” 

“Shut up.”

“… behind the bookcase. Nobody thought about asking JARVIS for his whereabouts, so it took us like twenty minutes to find him.”

“Shut up.”

“And when we finally did, I don’t know how, but the tail of the costume had gotten completely stuck under the bookcase, Steve tried to move it, but it was anchored to the wall,”

“Shut up,”

“so we had to empty it, something not so easy when there was a baby wailing behind it. Fortunately,…”

“DADA!” Tony shouted, and it took his brain a couple of seconds to registered what he had just said. He closed his mouth and slammed his hands over it right after, futilely, the word had already slipped out. What the hell had that been? ‘Shut the fuck up’, that was what Tony had wanted to say, how on earth had that come out as ‘dada’? What the hell was wrong with him?

“What is it, sweetheart?” Steve asked, a confused expression on his face. Tony was certain he blushed from the top of his head to the tips of his toes. 

Too embarrassed to be around anyone, Tony stood up and dashed off the kitchen, knocking down the chair in the process. If terms of endearment slipped out of Steve or Bucky’s mouth, it was annoying, but Tony could deal with that. On the other hand, if he called them the way he used to when he was a baby, that was something Tony just couldn’t bear. Incidents kept adding up one after another, and Tony was afraid that things would worsen if he stayed there. 

The idea of moving out had started to flow in his head for a few days. Tony had considered that idea as a viable option to cope with the aftermath of Loki’s stupid trick, but he had decided to rule it out. Sooner or later, he had to face the team and get through all the awkwardness there would be between them, so it was better to get it over with once and for all. However, as the days went by, Tony began to think carrying out that idea didn’t seem that bad. Tony needed some time on his own to process all that had happened and come to terms with it, to put his thoughts in order. 

Going to his mansion in Malibu, spending some time by himself, working to get his lifestyle back, eating whatever he wanted, going wherever he wanted, doing whatever and whenever he wanted without having two Jiminy Crickets on his shoulder telling him he should slow down. It did sound appealing. A shame that Tony hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it, and the reason he couldn’t make up his mind whether to leave or not was starting to eat him up.

“Tony, wait!” Steve pleaded, grabbing his forearm right when Tony stepped into the elevator. “Are you okay? What was that all about? Why did you leave like that?” he questioned.

“Let me go,” Tony demanded, turning around and glaring at him. 

“First tell me what happened,” Steve insisted. 

“Nothing.” A lie. 

“If it was because of Clint, I already ordered him not to talk again about what happened.” Steve informed, “I’m sorry if I didn’t do it before.”

“It wasn’t that,” Tony assured, struggling to get himself free from Steve’s grip. That wasn’t a lie, Tony knew perfectly well Clint would have ended up teasing him one way or another even if Steve or Bucky had told him not to. It was just the way Clint was, and Tony couldn’t really complain if he enjoyed pranking Clint as much as he did. Eventually, something else worth joking about would happen, and Clint would move on. 

“Then, what is it?” Steve pushed. 

“Nothing! Just leave me the fuck alone!” Tony snapped at him, pressing the button so the doors of the elevator closed. Steve blinked in confusion, but he didn’t stop him from leaving. 

The teasing, the nicknames, the feeling of alienation in his own body, all that was putting Tony on the edge. The more Tony thought about it, the more he felt leaving the Tower for a while would actually help. But if he did that, he wouldn’t be able to continue tricking his mind into believing that the way Steve and Bucky were treating him caused him annoyance, and not extreme and mortifying feeling of longing. 

If Tony went away, if he distanced himself from them, his mind would confirm how much he missed his dads.

****

**______________**

Tony groaned miserably when he opened the door of the closet and found out that he had run out of clean sheets. How could that be possible? He was positive there were at least twelve sheets sets. Had he already wet the bed that many times? What was wrong with him?

The first night he had spent as an adult, he had woken up in a soaked bed. It was understandable, if he was having problems keeping the balance and pronouncing certain words correctly, it was only to be expected that he would struggle to control his bladder too. Knowing it would probably happen didn’t make it any easier though. During the day, Tony had to literally dash to the nearest bathroom as soon as he felt like going, otherwise he was afraid he was going to have an accident. And at night, well, he hadn’t made it to the bathroom not even once.

Slamming the door of the closet, Tony leaned against it and slid all the way down to the ground. This was getting rather frustrating, and he didn’t know what to do anymore. He had gotten JARVIS to wake him up every hour during the night so he could check if he needed to empty his bladder, and that had worked for a few nights, but sleeping for such short periods of time was making him extremely exhausted, and the last nights, Tony couldn’t wake up no matter how many times JARVIS said his name. Another consequence of his baby habits, Tony had gotten so used to sleeping for more than eight hours at night and taking naps during the day, that he just couldn’t stay awake now. When it was time to sleep, it was time to sleep.

“The eighth floor also has bedrooms, sir,” JARVIS informed, breaking the deafening silence. Tony didn’t bother to answer, his mind focusing on fighting against the urge of just staying there and curl up into a small ball. 

It was in moments like these when Tony was torn between becoming enraged and crying his eyes out. Between wanting to man up and wanting to go and get some comfort from Steve or Bucky. During the first weeks Tony did fine, he was struggling of course, but he sucked it up and moved on. However, over the last days, that feeling of longing had increased greatly, to the point of not being able to ignore it anymore.

Whenever something bad happened to him, Tony craved for Steve’s and Bucky’s reassurance, but at the same time, he felt like punching them if they dared to show any kind of concern. Obviously, Tony wasn’t going to do any of them, Steve and Bucky didn’t really deserve to be punched, and Tony was an adult who could perfectly get over this situation all by himself. He wasn’t a baby anymore, so he couldn’t let himself act like one. 

With that in mind, Tony mustered his determination and got up. He had wet the bed, so what? He would go downstairs, sleep on one of the dozens of dry and empty beds there were in the Tower and tomorrow he would figure out what to do to solve this predicament. Walking slowly and yawning, Tony reached the elevator and stepped into it. There was no need to indicate JARVIS where to take him, so he leaned against the wall, folded his arms over his chest and dozed without realizing it. 

By the time the elevator stopped, Tony was more than ready to flop down on whichever furniture he ran into that was comfortable enough to sleep on. And Tony would have done exactly that, if Steve hadn’t been right on the other side of the doors, blocking the exit. 

“Tony? What are you doing up this late?” Steve asked. Tony saw in slow motion how Steve lowered his eyes and focused on his crotch. In any other case, Tony would consider that action to be awfully weird, but he was still wearing the same pajama pants he had put on before going to bed, and the wet spot would surely attract anybody’s attention even if it had already started to dry out. Why hadn’t he changed? 

A strong urge to shove Steve aside and make his way into the room took over Tony. Of all the people Tony could have run into, why did it have to be Steve? He never backed away, he never left him alone, at least not until he knew what was wrong and he had tried to do something about it. Even Bucky was a bit easier to flee from. Tony could perfectly picture Steve trying to help him change out of his soaked pants, even offering to give him a bath, because that was just the kind of person Steve was. And Tony didn’t feel capable of dealing with that right now, not when his mood was so volatile. So he needed to put as much distance as possible between him and Steve.

“Oh, baby, did you have an accident?” 

And Tony should have gotten infuriated by such question. He should have yelled at Steve and demand him to mind his own business, to leave him the fuck alone. He should have reminded Steve he wasn’t a baby anymore, and that he and Bucky should get rid of the idea that he still needed them. He should have pushed him and gotten out of there. But he didn’t do any of those things. 

Instead, tears started to well up in his eyes as he bit his lip as a lame attempt to refrain himself from crying. Because the tone of voice in which Steve had pronounced that question was so loving and genuinely concerned that it instantly vanished Tony’s irritation.

“Oh, sweetheart, come here,” Steve said right before he eliminated the space between them. Without hesitating, he slid his hands under Tony’s arms and scooped him up as if he didn’t weight more than a couple of pounds. 

Tony thought about complaining and demanding to be put down, but he wrapped his arms and legs around Steve’s neck and waist in lieu. Being carried like that felt so familiar and comfortable that Tony could notice that feeling of longing intensifying. When he was still a baby, Tony had found out he would miss Steve and Bucky once everything went back to normal, though he thought that feeling would be easier to ignore when he was his adult self again. It wasn’t. If anything, it had proven to be more difficult to overlook. 

Without being able to hold back the tears anymore, Tony burst into tears as he hid his face in the crook of Steve’s neck and tightened his embrace. He missed Bucky. He missed Steve. He missed being comforted by them. He missed being taken care of. He shouldn’t, he was an adult now and he couldn’t expect them to solve everything for him now. Yet, he did. 

“Shh, baby, it’s okay. Daddy’s here,” Steve soothed him, rubbing a reassuring hand down his back, “I’m here, sweetheart.”

It took Tony an embarrassing amount of time to calm down. No reassurances, no caresses and no rocking seemed to help. It had been a very tough five weeks of frustration and disappointments, and Tony just couldn’t take it anymore. He needed to let it out, and if Steve was willing to lend him a shoulder to cry on, Tony was not going to reject it. So he held onto Steve, hopeful dada would make him feel better as he used to.

 

“Is this why you haven’t been sleeping?” Steve asked in Tony’s ear, nuzzling his hair. There had been a moment where Tony figured Steve had gotten tired, and he had sat down on the couch with him in his lap.

“Who says I’m not sleeping?” Tony replied, voice tiny and words muffled since his face was pressed against Steve’s chest. 

“The huge bags under your eyes, your crankiness, and the fact that you’ve been dozing off everywhere,” Steve explained, chuckling when Tony groaned, “if you were having problems, you could’ve come to us, you know. Neither Bucky nor I are trying to be annoying, we know you’re struggling a lot, and we don’t understand why you insist on getting through this all by yourself.” 

“I’m okay,” Tony lied. The outburst he had had only minutes ago proved otherwise. 

“You know, whenever you did something you weren’t supposed to do, your little lobes turned red. That was how Bucky and I knew the truth even if you stubbornly denied everything by shaking your head,” Steve commented, the longing in his voice almost tangible, “and it seems it still happens,” he said as he caressed Tony’s left lobe, causing him a tickling sensation. "You have no idea how much I've missed this," he confessed, hugging him tighter as he brushed a kiss over the top of his head. 

Tony couldn't understand why, but those words caused him more tears. 

 

"It's weird," Tony mumbled, eyes fixed on his knees. If he lifted his head, he was sure Steve and Bucky would notice how content he was just for being sat between them. 

Bucky threw an arm around Tony’s shoulders, pulling him closer, "why do you say that, doll?" 

"Because it is," Tony assured, squirming at the nickname, "I'm an adult now, I don't need you to play parents anymore."

“It’s not like we want to pretend we’re your parents,” Steve said, placing a hand on his knee, “you’re still welcome to call us dada and papa if you want to, though,” he offered with a fond smile on his face. Tony felt heat rise to his face. 

"But I'm not a baby anymore," Tony muttered, hands fidgeting. 

"Well, you're not that different from then and now," Bucky declared, mockingly. Tony was about to complain about that statement when Bucky placed his hands on his sides and lifted him enough to put him on his lap, as if he was trying to prove a point. "You get mad whenever we suggest you to do something that’s gonna be good for you but you considered childish, you fight with Clint, you go and look for Bruce when you’re angry at us, and I’m pretty sure you’ve been very close to throw a tantrum a couple of times,” he observed. Tony felt very small and ashamed, what Bucky had said hadn’t been far from the truth. 

“Look, we’re not forcing you to do anything you don’t want to,” Steve clarified, “we want help you with the transition, not make you feel worse.”

“What are you proposing?” Tony asked, still a little hesitant. Steve smiled, from the moment Bucky had shown up, they had been trying to changed his mind about not wanting them to interfere with his life anymore. For the first thirty minutes Tony refused to listen to their arguments, but his curiosity made him want to know what they had in mind. 

“Let us show you something,” Bucky said, standing up with him in his arms. Tony couldn’t help squealing once more. He was used to being carried by them, though it was a bit disorienting now that he was an adult. 

Steve kept a hand on his back while they walked towards the rooms as a reassurance, and Bucky began to palm his butt when Tony’s body tensed after realizing where they were taking him: his nursery. Tony hadn’t been there since he was changed back, stepping a foot in that room wasn’t a very good idea when the only thing he wanted to do was forgetting and moving on. There were too many memories there. 

“Why don’t you let us take care of you once more?” Steve suggested as Bucky opened the door of the nursery, “every time you feel like it’s too much, like you could use a break, like you miss us, come with us and we’ll look after you. You’ve been forcing yourself to be your old self since Loki aged you up, but that hadn’t worked. Maybe if you do it gradually, it’d be easier.” 

Tony opened him mouth to point out one more time how weird that would be, but in that moment Bucky enter the nursery and the shock of seeing it prevented Tony from emitting any word. Everything was exactly as Tony remembered it. The white crib near the windows; the changing table near the door, right next to the wall on which his name was created with vinyl wall letterings, surrounded by Steve's hand-painted decorations; the toy chest where most of the toys he disliked were kept, the stroller that was just decorative as it had been used just once and only to conked him out on a day when he had been extremely cranky. Everything was still there, intact. Although it couldn’t be said that everything was still the same.

All the furniture that had once been a baby-size was now big enough for him to fit. What the actual fuck?

“We don’t know how or why, but everything that was yours got bigger at the same time you did,” Bucky informed, going deeper into the nursery until he reached the changing table. Tony’s body tensed even more when Bucky leaned forward with the intention to put him down on it. 

“Shhh, it’s okay sweetheart, you need to sleep and I’m pretty sure that won’t happen until you’re sure your bed won’t get wet,” Steve soothed, rubbing a thumb over his cheek while he used his other hand to detach Tony’s hands from Bucky’s t-shirt. Tony didn’t put up much of a fight, he knew what was going to happen once he was lay down and he wasn’t thrilled with the idea, though exhaustion was starting to take over him and he didn’t want to waste energy in vain. 

In no time, Tony found himself cradled in Steve arms wearing a diaper and a onesie, drinking warm vanilla flavored milk from a bottle, while Bucky hummed and caressed his stomach gently. Tony had been right, this was weird. But what was weird wasn’t the fact that he, an adult, was being babied by two of his other adult teammates. What was weird was how comfortable and right all this felt.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, I was supposed to update this yesterday, but I woke up, and I saw my room was a mess, and I'm the kind of person who has to clean EVERYTHING once I start it. 
> 
> Anyway, as you read, Tony went back to being an adult. I did play with the idea of leaving him as a baby, but I decided to end this as I initially had intend to. I did tag this story as Infantilism and NSAP for a reason since the beginning. But I do like this story a lot, baby Tony is just too cute, so I might write come more shots where he's still a baby, or an alternative ending where he remained a baby, I don't know, it depends on my inspiration and time. Who knows, I wasn't planing on writing more than one chapter for this story, and it ended up having 15 chapters, so really, who knows. I'd also like to write one-shots of Adult Tony age playing. 
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it, and thank you so much for your kind comments and kudos :)

**Author's Note:**

> Saw any mistakes? Please, let me know :)


End file.
